


My Friend Gerard

by louisewhofan



Series: The Fabulous Killjoys [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 2019, Alternate Universe - Bands, Boy Love, Bullets, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Distopian, Dracs, Fabulous Killjoys - Freeform, Ferard, Frerard, Fun Ghoul - Freeform, Imaginary Friend, Jet Star - Freeform, Kobra Kid - Freeform, Love, M/M, Party Poison - Freeform, The Black Parade, killjoys, three cheers for sweet revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 33,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisewhofan/pseuds/louisewhofan
Summary: Having an imaginary friend is difficult enough to explain to adults when you're a child, but trying to explain to your mom when you're well into your teens is impossible. And so Frank ended up in the one place he never wanted to be.But what everyone seems to forget when the story is about them is that the world continues on. And something was brewing in the horizon, something big is coming...





	1. prologue

The sky was a scarlet, bleeding into a deep blackberry purple that rested on the dark green grass. The sun only a segment left. Its dark orange glow, picking up the tips of grass, flowers and buildings, but overall making the Silhouettes stand out. There was an old tree, shrouding in the cover of a shadow that a newer office block had cast. Unlike the other trees that were in a perfect picture scene, this tree was not. On the ground, the roots were twisted and coiled, like a broken spring, so the ground had split; the bark that had been hidden and protected was out in the open, the damp soil was slowly drying, shrinking and cracking, opening the bark to the sunlight even more, like the cocoon around a butterfly, as the casing slowly flaked away the butterfly begins to dry. But for the roots this is as far it got, as the tree was anchored deep into the ground.   
The actual trunk of the tree, was similar in many respects, but rather than being bent in every direction. It was only bent in one. It faced away from the sun, and bent low to the ground, just a few branches trailing across the grass, knocking away water droplets every time the wind picked up enough, not much, but enough.   
The trunk was a dark brown, but in some places the bark had been stripped, showing a pale golden colour. In other places however, the bark was so dark it was almost black, as if a child had got hold of a tin of paints, and mixed them all together, trying to create a new and exciting colour, but instead only creating another shade of brown. This always seemed to lead many kids to disappointment. Perhaps nature seemed to have the same idea, sticking dirt, rain, mould to areas on the tree, but only ruining what was already there.  
The branches seemed to trail, damp, old and rotting, not like their cousins, who had managed to stand upright, even after this mornings storm. This had been disastrous for the tree. Many of the branches had snapped, only clinging to the other half because of the bark wrapped around the branch, which was too damp to snap. It could only bend and twist.    
There were a few flowers though, which seemed surprising. They were small and pink with a deep yellow centre. The outer petals were dark and long, however they curled upwards, creating a tiny delicate rose shape. They seemed nice. Its a strange way to describe something with the word nice; its used so often, its not original or creative. But I suppose its the way you say it. There's the way were you're so casual, you barley pay attention to what you're meant to be looking at, its almost the word you use to tell your brain to not focus the information, its not important. But then there is the other way, something so delicate and beautiful it almost seems mellifluous coming off your tongue.   
I prefer the second way the best; it makes it seem important, like its worth your time. That happens rarely to me. Im normally the first kind of nice; I'm not mean or horrible. But I suppose Im mostly just in the way.   
Thats mainly what Im doing here. Keeping out the way. That final bit of silence, just before the sun sets, everything's calm and peaceful, especially here. Behind me is an estate but I'm facing a park. The dimness of the light, hiding most things with specific detail. That includes the litter.   
I can feel the blades of grass, run through my fingers, tickling my skin slightly, and the water droplets drop from the grass and land on my fingers, the coolness sending shivers up my spine, before they run down my fingers, hanging from my nails for a moment They drop! Suddenly splashing on to the ground.  
I grab my hood and place it over my head, the warmth, making my once pink ears, burn from the sudden change in heat.  The chill was slowly intensifying, making my nose numb and my lips chapped and dry. I bite on my lip, running my tongue over them, trying to regain some moisture.   
I went back to running my hands through the grass, trying to take my mind away from the fact that I was beginning to get restless, my back had begun to hurt, with a dull annoying pain. I needed to stand up, but it didnt mean I wanted to.


	2. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge... Until you get caught that is..

"Do you really want to be here?"  
"No." I replied with certainty, but my fingers had already begun to twitch. It was like a tingle that would slowly spread further up until my hand felt like it was burning, like when you put your hand too close to a flame on a cold winter's night. I suppose that's what I was doing but I didn't want to tell him that.   
My hand reached slowly towards the steel door knob, the cool air gliding across my skin, catching on my broken nails and only recently healed cuts. It sneaked under the wool of my glove, lifting it away from my skin that was never intentionally touched. It sent shivers down my spine. My fingers latched hold, twisting the handle.   
"Look, we could just go home now and no one would be any the wiser." He began to wrap a strand of dyed black hair around his finger, tugging on it slightly.   
"Uh huh." I said pushing against the heavy steel and glass, the cold seeping through my black hoodie and on to my arm, I felt the hairs on my neck rise.  
"We could do our homework, watch a movie, have dinner and go to bed." He looked up furrowing his eyebrows together.   
"Yep." The door slowly opened, it didn't creak, no, it was too new for that. It scraped along the grey carpet; the kind that if you stood on it bare footed it would stab you repeatedly but leave no evidence.   
"Look, I don't like this. I have a bad feeling." I looked him in the eye for a second, before quickly turning away.   
"Yeah, me too." I replied lazily. The door was fully open now; I stepped inside, my hand gripping the pole tightly.   
He began to turn away eying the path that we had just come from. "Then why don't we go?" He anxiously whined.   
"Because I have a score to settle and we're already here." I reached up touching my lip gingerly, a ragged cut brushed against my fingers where my lip ring used to be. I bit my lip, firmly, before stepping fully inside. "Now where is it...?" I whispered to myself.   
"We're going to get caught," He said stating the obvious.   
"You're not."  
"I know, I was just trying to make you feel guilty."  
"I know..." My eyes wondered across the empty halls shadowed by the dim light of the moon. I didn't really understand why people portrayed the moon in such a romantic way; it's a piece of rock that hung in the sky, only to be lit by the sun. It was an echo, a whisper, hanging in another's shadow, and believe me, there was nothing romantic about that.   
My eyes narrowed onto a black locker, it was dented in several places and graffiti littered it. "Ah ha." I breathed. This, ladies and gentleman was the locker of the person who had caused me to lose my lip ring, so you can understand my logic. No, you probably don't. Not yet. I began to walk forward; the carpet was no longer under my feet. Instead was cheap marbled blue vinyl, that decided at the most inconvenient times to make your shoes squeak, no matter how hard you tried to walk differently. So naturally, my shoes were squeaking now. His didn't, they never did.   
I began to run the metal pole across the lockers, scratching at the paint work, just enough to reveal the cheap thin metal that was so nimbly protecting his locker. I tapped it once as I reached it, gliding forward a bit too far before back tracking.   
"Frank we can still leave." He was right, no one had noticed me yet, and I could still avoid trouble. However, I had other ideas.   
"You go. I'm staying."   
"You know I can't do that."   
"Yeah I know." I began to tap at the lock, slowly hitting it harder and harder, and the metal clang echoing throughout the hall. It was kind of like a drum. I began to tap out a tune, well attempted. I sucked at playing the drums. The hinge began to bend; flakes of paint began to peel away with it. They fluttered to the floor, not making a sound. Rather the opposite to me then. But I kept going until I heard a creek. That's when I stopped and just let gravity take effect.   
It didn't really do anything at first, just kind of hovered, the lock swinging backwards and forwards, forwards and backwards, backwards and, well you get the idea. It creaked again the lock thumped against the metal door and that seemed to trigger it all at once. It banged again before clattering against the front and smashing against the ground, I let it trail off. "Cool." I smirked.   
I didn't waste any time in opening it, I swung it open, letting it smash against the opposite door, before leaning in and using my hands like a giant brush, sweeping out the contents onto the floor. Pages of books flew out around my feet, the edges of paper catching in the soft glow of the light. They didn't fully reach the ground before I began to pick up his books, ripping them in half and then in half again. Eventually, I began to bring all his stuff into a pile and pulled out my lighter, I watched as the warm yellow glow flickered and danced before my eyes, they gleamed with delight.  
"Frank! Stop! Think about what you're doing! You could burn down the entire school!" He cried.   
"I might not." I countered.  
Slowly the steady sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance, they began to get closer.   
"Someone's coming," He almost sang.  
I quickly pocketed my lighter, my eyes searching for an exit, but there seemed to be only one way out, and guess who was blocking it.  
So I just stood there, the hood of my jumper, just hanging low enough to keep my eyes out of sight, and I waited. The teacher finally came into view; he held a scowl, which seemed to be a reoccurring feature, due to set lines that were creased into his fore head. I couldn't really tell much else about him, I tended to hold my gaze but rarely met people's eyes. Looking in people's eyes meant that I had to tell the truth, I didn't like doing that.  
"Mr Iero, I thought as much, you do know that breaking and entering is a criminal offence." His voice was gruff, almost as if it had been worn out by the years and many disobedient students.   
"Gerard did mention it." I replied airily looking over in his direction, he gave me a little wave but stuck closely to the shadows.   
He looked over in the vague direction where Gerard was waving "And did Gerard happen to mention, vandalizing is also one?"   
"Yes, now that you mention it, he did say something along those lines." I replied turning to scowl behind me. More importantly in the direction of Gerard.   
"Come this way Frank." He sighed.  
I followed him slowly, down the hall, until I reached a door. It was a dark wood with two glass panels, and behind those were white blinds, blocking the view to his office.  
He pushed open the door tiredly, before gesturing me to come inside. I looked behind my shoulder and noticed Gerard behind me smiling lazily, his hands in his pockets. I knew this look, he did it a lot. It meant I told you so.   
The man with the frown gestured to me to sit down, I did so, flopping onto a plastic chair that made you small and inferior, whilst the head teacher sat in a tall leather one, with a back rest that could spin.   
"You know Frank, for someone who doesn't exist; he sure does have a lot more sense than you." He said pinching the bridge of his nose.   
"Just because, he's not real to you, doesn't mean I can't ignore him." I grumbled.   
"He is right." Gerard interjected, clarifying something that I already knew, but I could only hear, so really it wasn't very helpful at all.   
"Obviously I'm going to have to call your parents."  
"I already figured as much."  
"Listen, Frank..."  
"I know he's not real! So don't start with the talk."  
"But if you know he's not real, why is he still here, I mean imaginary friends, aren't they really something that should be left in your childhood?"  
So let's clarify some things, my name is Frank Iero, and I have an imaginary friend. His name is Gerard. I didn't really plan on keeping him this long. I thought he would just be here until I get some friends, but I guess that hasn't happened yet.


	3. Do you remember back then when we met, you told me you were imaginary

I was obviously suspended, for the mishap earlier.   
"You mean breaking into school when the Headmaster was still inside?" Gerard turned to me looking seriously annoyed. His long black hair flicking across his eyes, hiding the glassy glare for a fraction of a second.   
"No," I grumbled under my breath. "The mishap was getting caught. It won't happen again..."  
"No!" Gerard's shrill voice interrupted. "It won't happen at all. Don't you want to leave school? Get a job? Have a life?" His voice grew softer, almost trailing to a distant whisper. "I'm not going to be here forever, you of all people know that."  
I felt the argument slowly drain from me, my expression becoming softer, almost weaker. "But what if I don't want you to leave, what if I want you to stay?" I collapsed on to the bed, feeling the blankets and mattress curling around me slightly; cocooning me from Gerard's words. He sat down next to me, the bed not shifting, so he waited until I looked up, propping on to my elbows, to notice him. His charcoal hair splayed gently across his cheeks, his lips were curled into a small reassuring smirk, but I could tell from his eyes he wasn't completely content.   
"I was never meant to be here this long, but you've somehow managed to cling on, for all this time..." He smiled at me, almost proudly.   
"I guess it's because you're so kickass." I grinned a little, swinging my legs back and forth over the red carpeted floor.   
"Ah..." Gerard contemplated "That's because you wanted me to be kickass, along with charming and charismatic of course."  
"Ha! You- charming!" I snorted, nudging his shoulder.   
"Of course," Gerard nudged back. "With these eyes, I can charm anyone." He replied fluttering them a little.   
"Sure..." I laughed, shoving him a little too roughly. Gerard rolled off the bed, landing like a squashed fly on the floor.   
"Do you think mum will send me to a psychiatrist?" I asked after a while, looking down at Gerard who sat cross legged on the floor, his back against a white radiator, the paint had slowly begun to turn yellow, curling at the edges where the heat had pressured the skin to give up.  
"Probably, you're talking to thin air after all." Gerard said with a shrug.   
"But I'm not, just because no one else can see you, doesn't mean you don't exist!" I cried out. "People every day are creating filters on how they see the world, if it's a view on a war, someone's being bullied or even how they view themselves. We change things in our heads so much because we don't want to face the truth, or just because we can't! No one ever sees the world for how it really is, no matter how much we think we know something- there's always a little more we can't grasp. We hide away from the truth, because we fear it. But if we hide so much, how we can really know what's there." My voice became strangled. "How can we know that being imaginary doesn't make you a real person?"   
Gerard was voiceless until he spoke five words I didn't want to hear. "Because you know I'm not." He looked over towards me, I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing just one tear to fall. "You're one of those people creating a filter, and that filter you're using has me stuck on it." He stood up before pulling me into a hug, his arms wrapped tight around me. "You understand, don't you? I can see it in your head, even if you don't want me to." He murmured into my hair.  
I shook my head, trying to knock out what's been settling there for a while. And yet I still didn't open my eyes because I knew what I felt, felt real. We're always told that maybe we can't always trust our eyes. But I can feel him his arms that are hugging me, his chin that's resting on the top of my head. Why was he only real to me? Even he talks about himself like he's nothing.   
"I'm here until you don't need me Frank." His faint voice echoed through me as I finally fell asleep.  
"It's nice here isn't it?" He said stepping forward, a smirk that seemed like a permanent fixture to him. His hazel eyes were facing the direction of the rose pink sky, which was slowly beginning to grow dark, like a shadow on a flower.  
"Why are you here?" I scowled skipping pointless introductions.   
"You forgot to ask who I am, that normally comes first." He replied.   
"Fine. Who are you?" I said rolling my eyes.   
"You're very rude, you know that don't you? I can tell." He raised an eyebrow.   
"Just answer the question, so we can move on and you can go away again." Everyone does, I didn't happen to mention.  
"The name's Gerard and I'm your friend." He said holding his hand out for me to shake.  
I snorted. "You don't even know me."  
He dropped his hand, "That's where you're wrong, you don't know me. However, I know you." I looked at him puzzled.   
"But in order for you to know me, I would have to know you."  
"You're very smart for a thirteen year old, but what if I was a stalker?" He retorted with a grin.   
"If you were a stalker, you wouldn't be wearing that t-shirt." He looked down at his t-shirt across the front was a red Pink Floyd logo, made to seem like an old photograph, crumpled and torn looking. "Wearing things with logos, gives me a reason to remember you, especially if that logo is of a band I like." I counter. "How do you know I'm thirteen?"  
He stared at me for a while like it was obvious, but my doubtful look proved him otherwise. "I thought you would have guessed by now, I really did." He said lowering his head and shaking it slightly.   
"Guessed what?" I asked.   
"I'm imaginary."  
... "What?" I react.   
"Imaginary." He repeats. "I'm not real, I don't exist. Whatever suits you the best."  
"Aren't I a little old for imaginary friends?" I ask still not quiet believing him.   
He began to explain using his hands to make actions. "That's where most people make mistakes. Imaginary friends are there when you have none. There are so many only children who grow up by themselves or with no one they trust, but when they go to school, they meet new people and become friends with them. The imaginary friend is no longer needed, and so the He/she no longer exists."   
"I still don't understand while you're here?" I reply looking at him with a steady stare.   
"Oh, I think you do. You don't have a friend, do you Frank? Or anyone you fully trust?"  
With a long hesitation, I shake my head slowly. "No..." I say.   
"So until you do, I'm going to stick around for a while." Gerard says standing next to me with his hand outstretched.  
I reach out and shake it. "Nice to meet you Gerard, but I still don't see how you're a fragment of my imagination."  
"Don't worry, you will..." Was all he said...


	4. Headfirst for the bedroom door

"I can prove it you know." He said after a while.  "Prove what?" I ask turning to him, his gaze was steady like he'd been staring at me whilst my head had turned away- almost as if he froze without me there. His black hair ruffled, but one strand, as I had come to notice, hung softly around the curve of his face; the tip of the strand pulling his lip into a never ending smile. I liked it.

  
"That I'm not real..." He said, almost trying to prompt my memory with an arched eyebrow. I looked at Gerard with a dissoluble gaze. "Not real..." I questioned once again forgetting that he was a fragment of my imagination, well at least that's what he told me. To be honest I never thought that my imaginary friend would be the one telling me I'm basically crazy. But then again I never thought I would have an imaginary friend- at least not now... "Come with me," He said holding out his hand. He sniffed a little the cold chill from the night air finally getting at him; he tugged at the edge of his sleeve before dabbing at the edge of his nose.

  
"Well?" he flexed his fingers, his hands still outstretched. For some reason my eyes wouldn't budge from the sleeve that Gerard had used to wipe his nose, I wasn't bothered by the action, not really. I mean everyone's done it at least once, probably. No, I was more bothered why he done it at all. I mean if I had created him from my imagination why the hell would I make him anything but perfect. Why would my imagination allow me to think that, that is a quality in a friend that everyone needs. Why the hell would he get a cold in the first place-?

  
But maybe that was the thing; I needed him to be normal. That little bit of human that nobody really paid attention to, but a thing that stood out in any social situation. The main focus of a person's day when they had it. So insignificant but so important for people to conceive you as a person- as someone living.

  
"So you understand now, do you?" He asked with a slight glint in his eye. I wondered for a second.  "Well shit. You can read my thoughts can't you?" I asked imagining what he was thinking right now.  "Uh huh." He replied with a slight nod. "Well are you coming?" He asked, holding out his arm once again, but of course he already knew the answer to that.

  
I sighed, taking it. Not really sure where this was leading to. I was led around the back of the old tree ducking from it as the claw stood out in the moonlight, like a shadow on a painted wall. I stumbled a little, tripping on a root, as my arm was tugged sharply but lightly. I managed to regain my footing before I fell flat on my face, running a little before levelling myself to Gerard's pace- he turned a corner heading down an ill-lighted alley surrounded by concrete towers that seemed to consume any colour that was once in the night sky. I realised where we were heading as soon as we turned a corner. My house.

  
I followed obediently behind him, not really wanting to head back home but knowing I must. So why not now? It was kinda strange being led to your own home, like a whole new journey, each step you took was slightly different from before just because you were following the person in front, they Knew different short cuts to you or in Gerard's case, they knew the same short cuts to you but took a completely different approach, ducking and turning slightly differently. It was like... It was like looking into a mirror from a different angle wondering if it's really you standing there, and if not what move were they going to make if you look from the corner of your eye; slight differences in a movement compared to what you would do in your head.

  
Gerard turned a corner again. Passing an old letter box that appeared to be unused however every time Frank had passed this, someone had made the effort everyday to change the day on a metal card that slotted on the front of the box. In some ways I kind of respected whoever did this, but mostly I thought why the hell bother. This seemed to be my opinion for many things these days.

  
The pavement beneath our feet had begun to  become nonexistent, the once dark grey slabs had become broken and cracked, pieces of stone and grass had begun to weed their way through them blocking the puddles of rain that had begun to build up in the sink of pavement. I stepped over cautiously not wanting my canvas shoes to begun soaked and dirt riddled. Gerard on the other hand marched straight through not creating the slightest ripple. That's when my eyes travelled slowly up.

  
At first glance my house seemed fairly ordinary, well for a council estate anyway, four windows at the front with a stark white frame. One door, a moss green. And slightly grey, red bricks that seemed to have faded over time. I stared at it for a while waiting for a story to be told through the walls, but that was just it, it was so ordinary that I hated it. There was no hidden past, no picture frames on the window, no cracks along the bricks- it was like looking into a house broche whilst trying to imagine where everything in that room would go. However I knew this was the right house due to the figure staring impatiently through the window with the net white curtain half heartedly drawn. It dropped instantly as soon as I came into view.

  
There was a heavy pad of footsteps trudging along the carpeted floor, before the door was finally opened with a loud clang of the bolt hitting another piece of metal secured to the door frame. The door opened silently apart from a loud sigh coming from my mother. "Get inside Frank." She murmured. Looking blankly into my eyes then behind me. "I've brought a friend with me, is that okay?" I asked turning my head towards Gerard who stood there looking at his feet. "Frank" She sighed again. "There's no one there." "Oh, he must have left." I replied looking directly at the area where Gerard stood, with an 'I told you so' look plastered to his face, which also appeared the same to me as smugness. "Just get in Frank, it's late." "It's only nine." I grumbled before stepping inside, and heading upstairs. "And take off your shoes!" "Fine." I replied incoherently, kicking off my shoes and watching them tumble down until they hit the floor with a thump. I then finished walking up the rest of the staircase before flinging my door open and slamming it loudly, just to irritate her.

  
" For God sake Frank, stop slamming doors!" She screeched. I muttered something inaudible even to myself before looking up to see Gerard on my bed reading a comic, with his shoes on. "I told you so." He said, kicking off his shoes and letting them drop to the floor.

 


	5. Give Em Hell Kid, until you get sent to your room

We were sitting at the dinner table, me, my mum and of course Gerard. But there was a Stoney silence in the air. The whole room appeared as though it was shrouded in a grey tone that made the potatoes and vegetables feel bland against my tongue, I forced myself to swallow.   
From across the table my mother watched me with disappear in her eyes, her brown mousey hair pulled tightly into a messy bun, causing her face to be stretched, and her ever deepening frown lines to become longer. She set her knife and fork down on the table. "Frank." She said weakly. "This is the second time you've been suspended."  
I shoved another mouthful of potato past my lips and swallowed heavily before nodding.  
She sighed, becoming annoyed. "This is getting serious now, I mean breaking and entering Frank! You're lucky you're not in prison!"  
Gerard looked down at my plate and picked up a stick of carrot and popped it in his mouth. "Yuck!" He cried in disgust. "It tastes like its been in the bottom of a washing up bowl for a week."   
I giggled quietly.  
"Frank!" She screeched, slamming her hand down harshly on the table. My whole body jolted in fear, rattling the cutlery on the table like the bell attached to the front door of a shop. "I don- I don't know what to do anymore Frank. I can't cope." She began, I looked her mouth, not quite believing my ears, to see if her mouth moved in sync with her voice. It did. "I've decided to send you away for a while." She added, "To get help." As if that made it any better.  
"But I'm fine." I argued. Trying to prove something with a fake smile.  
She sucked in breath bitterly. "No you are not fine. You're basically an adult and you still have an imaginary friend."   
I looked at Gerard with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged reaching for a potato this time, hoping it would be better.   
"You're looking at thin air, you know that don't you Frank."  
It wasn't.  
"Of course I know,'" I said rolling my eyes. "But it's rude not to look at someone whilst you're not talking to them."  
Mum looked down and pointed up the stairs. "Just go, if you're not going to try to help yourself, just go to your room"   
I scowled, scraping my chair back loudly enough to make it painful for her to hear and stomped up the stairs, leaving the plates vibrating in my wake. Gerard followed suit, but before heading up, I watched him stick out his tongue and raise his middle finger towards her- delighted in the fact that she could neither see and therefore retaliate to him.  
"You need to pack, you're leaving tomorrow.." She whispered.  
"Well thanks for the warning- It's great I get to know you ruined my life a day before it happens!" I shouted sarcastically down the stairs. A ran into my room slamming my door shut.  
"Don't slam the door!" She scream, letting it echo throughout the now silent house.   
When I looked up Gerard was already standing by the window, the light falling through gaps in his raven black hair to create beams of light on the fading red carpet. It gave him an almost angelic glow.  
"Weren't you just downstairs?" I scowled.  
He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, "I'm here when you need me." He replied softly.  
"This is completely insane!" I cried pulling an old black suitcase from under my bed and I began throwing all my clothes into there letting the draws hang out and t-shirts drape as though they were a hank a chief trick.  
"Are you taking your sketchbook?" He asked my looking down at my desk and amongst the many pencils there lay an old tattered sketch book, with a black leather cover, inside was the many pictures of Gerard that I had drawn over the years, he looked the same since the day I met him, so instead I drew him from every angle possible. I never knew if they were good but they were my version of proof.  
"Yes.." I trailed off, placing it gently on the top of my clothes. I looked up at him in hope. "We could run away?" I asked.  
He replied with another question. "You have no money and no job, how will you afford to sleep in hotels?" He blinked at me, his long eyelashes creating shadows on his cheekbones like petals of a flower.  
"I can sell my art, and photographs."   
He looked at me sadly."I'm causing so much trouble" he exhaled slowly, there was a slight tremor in his voice. "I was meant to help you, but I appear to be making things worse."  
I leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "No, that's not true- you're the one who told me not to do those stupid things and I ignored you!" I squeezed his hands tighter. "It's my fault, after all I'm the insane one. Maybe she's right, maybe I should go away."  
Gerard let my hands drop and pulled me in tightly, I felt so air escape my lungs, but it was warm and kind and let me know I was grounded. I could smell cheap washing powder and apple shampoo, there were so many senses telling me, that he was right there, I could hear his choked breathing, shallow and heavy. I could hear him whisper in my ear an old David Bowie song, it was quite but beautiful. "This is Major Tom to Ground control... I'm stepping through the door" He started singing, his voice reminded me of Bowie's, they were very different in most ways, but the way their voices matched in tone made me smile. "and I'm floating in the most peculiar way..." He trailed off when he noticed me looking at him.   
I teared up a little, the corner of my eyes becoming damp, making my eyelashes to stick together and therefore my sight to become blurry. "Your voice is lovely." I said hushed.   
"You say that every time." But he blushed anyway. "I don't know if going to this place, will do you any good, but I think just staying somewhere safe until we figure out a plan is best." He said sweetly, trying to make me understand... And he knew it was working.  
I wiped under my eyes with both hands, and looked up at him, blinking as though I had just woken up. "I think you're right, I don't like it but you're right." I dragged the suitcase off my bed and let it drop to the floor with a thud. "but for now I'm going to sleep, and hope that when I wake up, I have my brilliant idea."   
I leant forward and fell face first against my pillows. "Hey, Gerard?" I mumbled. "When my eyes are closed, are you still, there there, or do you blink out of existence?"  
I could hear a low hum before he answered, "If you can hear me, I'm still here. But physically I don't know." He poked my cheek. "Do you feel that?" He giggled lightly.  
"Yes." I muttered.  
"Then I'm here."  
"Will you stay?"  
I felt a weight drop beside me and his arm on my shoulder, he leaned close next to my ear.   
He said it in a way that made it sound as though it was part of the way he breathed, "Always..."


	6. It's not a fashion statement, It's fucking eyeliner

When I awoke all I could hear was heavy breathing tickling the back of my neck. I knew instantly it was Gerard.  
I didn't open my eyes, as even though they were shut heavy beams of light burned through my eyelids, imprinting bright colours of heavy pinks, bright emeralds and warm yellows against a black background. I could hear Gerard mutter something, still half asleep. I assumed it was the line "good morning"   
"Morning." I replied to the guess.  
"So today, everything changes." He hummed thoughtfully.  
My eyes shot open and were hit with the sun's fierce glare. I turned away from the light burying myself into the white, flattened pillow. "Oh crap." I called out in a way that only fair maidens in old novels would call. For someone to save them that was.  
I finally pulled my face away from the pillow due to the lack of air and looked up across the floor to the spot where my suitcase was. Next to my bag was a pair of black tattered converse's I looked up further and saw legs and then Gerard standing there, his hair perfect and his hands in his back pockets. And his eyes were dark but stood out brightly. Hazel colours shining like holding a translucent rock against the sun. I looked closer at his eyes, "Are you wearing eyeliner?" I gasped.  
"Er yes actually." He smirked a little.  
My mouth was still hung open, I closed it abruptly, before opening it again to speak. "...But why... You haven't before?"   
His smirk grew. "Because last night you were dreaming about how nice it would be." His fingers gave a little wave. "So here I am, or I could say, You think therefore I am." He laughed gently at his own joke, the corners of his eyes creasing slightly as he did so.   
My mood lifted, but my face remained still. "Yes very funny." I said dryly.  
"Yes I thought so, you seemed to like it." His eyes widened with realisation or shock and I looked at him confused. "Frank!" He cried. "You forgot your toothbrush!"   
I got out of bed grudgingly and stomped into the bathroom and pulled my toothbrush from a dark blue plastic cup before trudging back into my room and dropping it on top of my bag.  
Almost if that were her cue my mum called from the hallway. "Frank, it's time to leave." Her words were blunt and harsh. She was still cross with me.  
I looked down and noticed I was still in yesterday's clothes. The crinkled grey fabric of a very old led zeppelin t-shirt and a pair of skinny black jeans with renements of pencil smudges from my nail bitten fingers. Gerard looked down too but shrugged as if to say no one normal would notice. No one normal. That clearly excluded her. But what the hell she clearly didn't care about me. Sending me away- it... It was the easy way out.  
But looking down at my bare feet I realised that perhaps socks and shoes would be necessary. I grabbed a pair from a corner of my suitcase and my eyes wandered across the fading carpet for a pair of shoes. "Hmm, what do you think Gerard, sand shoes or trainers?"  
Gerard rolled his eyes. "They're not sand shoes.." He muttered.   
I looked behind the door and noticed a pair of battered white trainers there that had been discarded for who knows how long. Not seeing another quick alternative, "trainers it is" I decided.  
"Frank!" Came the calling screech of my mother.  
"It appears it's time to leave." Gerard acknowledged, nodding his head minutely as he did so.  
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, letting thoughts in my mind escape a little. I didn't open them for what felt like a minute but in fact was only ten seconds. I picked the bag from off the ground, lifting it as though all my problems were inside there. And I swear I felt it become heavier.  
"Do you know what I'm going to miss the most?" I asked turning to Gerard. My hand hovering over the metal, I could feel the cold air transferring from it to my hand like a feint electrical current.  
"The-"  
"The old tree on the only bit of grass in the entire estate." I answered for him, although I didn't doubt he already knew the answer.  
Gerard looked down at my hand. "Frank I think you should probably open the door now." He looked at me sadly, he understood I was stalling. "It won't be that bad Frank, it won't." He said, a repetitive calm.  
"You, you don't know that." My voice was coarse and dry. Always a first sign I was about to cry.  
"No, no I don't. And I'm sorry I can't do more." His stare intensified into a pleading look. "But standing here isn't going to change anything." He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers slightly. Sometimes at rare moments like I could hold his hand and I wasn't going to let go of something, the only solid thing. And it was sad that something like this fluctuated and faded and was perhaps not so stable after all.  
I griped his hand tightly and push the door open with a heavy sigh. The door brushed against the carpet, it opened slowly and with restraint, fighting against the bristles. And as the door opened the corridor seem to stretch out like it was a horizon on a salt plane.   
I felt as though this were a scene from a film, where two lone rangers had stepped into a new land with nothing to arm themselves with.  
"I'd look good in a stetson." Gerard stated boldly.  
I looked at him with a concerned eye and began to giggle quietly. "No you wouldn't you're too-"  
"-Emo?" Gerard replied a little crossly.  
"No. I see you more of a person from a gothic romance."  
Gerard pulled a look of disgust, "Romance?" but I could tell from the way his eyes gleamed he was happy with the statement. "Onwards, dear friend."  
"Hang on we were in a western a second ago?"  
He pouted childishly before twisting suddenly to me again. "You're stalling again."  
My arms flew out, "Of course I'm stalling, I'm going to crazy camp!"   
I saw hurt flash across Gerard's eyes. "The people there aren't crazy, Frank. They're unwell and alone and they don't get enough help until it's too late." He said this sadly with a bitter tang to his voice.  
"I'm sorry." I said kicking the back of my heel. "I'm just scared, you know."  
"I know." He grabbed my hand again and squeezed it for reassurance. We walked across the hall and it appeared to have returned to it's normal state as we continued to trudge.   
I turned left.  
We reached the top of the stairs and there was my mother looking irritably at her watch.  
Her eyes peered up and her expression changed to anger, I could tell this from the way her eyes seemed to bulge from the sockets and her lips were pressed into a thin line. "Will you get a move on!" She expelled.   
"We're coming.." I said deflated. I saw a vein on her temple bulge. "I mean I'm, I'm coming." I let my hand drop from his. It felt like an execution march.  
The steps were large and exhausting and when I finally reached the bottom I could almost feel myself trip and land face first at the feet of my mother. I looked up and realised I had. She looked at me as an insect. "Get up." She growled.   
She began to march towards the old battered silver car and ripped the door with considerable force.   
I closed the door to the flat gently behind me and then followed in toe deciding to keep mouth shut. It was an two hour journey after all...


	7. Desert Song and a birthday

"Good morning Frank." A voice said softly into my ear. "Happy 14th Birthday."  
"Happy what?" I asked confused, my mind still stretched across an already fading dream. I reached out for my alarm clock, more than half my body tittering on the edge of my bed. My spine rigid and blankets wrapped tightly around my ankles. And the bright blue glaring glow from my clock upsetting my already blurred eyesight. The tips of my fingers barely brushed the screen, and despite the odds I leaned forward further.   
Of course this was a mistake.  
My whole body tipped over the edge and I came crashing down in a rolling heap, but not before grabbing the clock tightly and thwacking my wrist harshly on the table. Dispute the pain I held the clock high in the air victorious.  
There was a quiet tapping sound and it took me a while to notice that this was Gerard clapping and I swear I heard a whistle. I jumped up with a grin and began to bow as though I were an actor expecting flowers. "Thank you, thank you." I replied gleefully. "I know, a true master piece right there."  
Gerard's clapping died down. "Wasn't the whole point of that endeavor, to try and read the date on the clock?" He asked.  
"Oh yeah," I replied bashfully. I bent down and read the date on the clock. '31/10/05' it was indeed my birthday but it was also Halloween. "So who should I dress up as this year?" I asked excitedly.  
"Aren't you a little old for this now Frank?" He asked with a warm smile.   
"No! Never!" I leant forward with an engaging look. "Come on pick something?"  
"Rose Tyler." He said confidently.  
I returned to him a look of shock. "What?" I questioned. My mouth hung open like a gold fish with a pause feature.  
"What?" He replied innocently, but the gleam in his eyes said it all.  
"I'm not dressing up as a girl!" I cried outraged.  
"Why not. You'd look nice."   
I stared at him blankly trying to find a reason to argue. "Because... Because I'm a boy."  
"So?" He fluttered his eyelashes a couple of times. "Dressing up is all about being someone you're not. Why not be someone completely different?"   
I faltered. Technically he was correct, but I couldn't risk being ridiculed, not any worse than it already was. But my whole body calmed when I came up with the answer. "I don't own her costume." I replied proud of the obvious answer.  
"I know." He said coolly.  
"- Then why-"   
He interrupted, "- because I was teaching you."  
"Teaching me what?" I asked exasperated and confused.  
"That discrimination based on what we wear is wrong, and being scared to wear it in the first place suggests that we live in an unjust society."   
"-But-"  
"I know what you're going to say, but it's to make you understand what people go through every day, struggling with gender identity to just wearing a band t-shirt that may not be popular in modern society."  
I remained stunned for quite some time. "Gee, thanks for the life lesson, it's just what I wanted for a birthday present." I finally replied a little sarcastically.  
"It's never the wrong time to learn something valuable." His serious tone seemed to weigh on my mind and quite frankly I was a little shocked into silence... "But I did do something for your birthday. Since I can't go to the shops and by you anything, with me being imaginary and all, I wrote you a song. Well your subconscious did. I'm just here to take the credit." He rambled quickly as though he were embarrassed.  
I laughed fondly at his remark. Whilst still smiling I asked, "Let's hear it then."  
He blushed slightly, a flare of pink spreading across his cheeks like an ink blot across paper. And cleared his throat as though he were doing a speech. His voice was quite at first, and gentle and rough voice- he was being timid but it suited the song well.   
"We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith" he breathed in deeply,   
"Swelled up from the rain, clouds move like a wraith" he stretched out the last word, as though his voice was strained. Emotion, mostly sadness seemed to be the main theme.   
"Well after all, we'll lie another day   
And through it all, we'll find some other way   
To carry on through cartilage and fluid   
And did you come to stare or wash away the blood?"  
His voice grew softer again and more coarse. "Well tonight, well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
Spend the rest of your days rocking out   
Just for the dead   
Well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
I can see you awake anytime, in my head   
Did we all fall down?   
Did we all fall down?   
Did we all fall down?   
Did we all fall down?   
From the lights to the pavement   
From the van to the floor   
From backstage to the doctor   
From the Earth to the morgue, morgue, morgue, morgue   
Well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
Spend the rest of your days rocking out   
Just for the dead   
Well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
I can see you awake anytime in my head   
All fall down   
Well after all..." Trailing away he looked up sheepishly. "It's a bit dark. Isn't it."   
"It's wonderful." I breathed.   
"I should probably go downstairs now." I said quietly almost so Gerard wouldn't hear. "Thank you Gerard." He smiled, such a small smile. It was as though the corners of his lips had been pressed against gently with a finger. And I left the room closing the door with a careful click. Leaving Gerard in there alone because that was how I needed it to be. Just for a moment.  
I walked along the corridor with quite, timid steps until I caught my reflection in a window. The rain fell softly, as though it was just beginning. The water droplets crashing against the glass like opening flowers...  
****

I watched my reflection in the window the rain falling heavily. The heavy cloud structure with silver linings that shone through as though the clouds were cracks in the sky. And I could feel the warmth of Gerard's hand on top of mine. And the low rumbling of the car's engine and the smell of cheap, fake leather seats that always made me feel slightly sick.   
I could see my mum's eyes travel to look towards a sign. "We're almost here." She said with an apathetic tone.   
"Great." I replied sarcastically. "I can't imagine the joy you must be feeling inside of you right now. You finally get rid of me."  
The car jolted sideways. And the view of two black-metal gates came into my eye line. It glared down at me. Its sharp spikes lining the top. I was guessing this was to keep people in more than to keep them out. "Get out" she said.  
I waited on the pavement as my mum drove away. A teenager in glasses walked up to the entrance. "I'm here to see my brother." He muttered. And went inside. There was a nod of acknowledgment between a nurse and the man. And the nurse in the afro walked outside in his bright blue uniform. "Mr Iero!" He said happily. "I'm your nurse, Ray Toro." He held out his hand.   
"Are you going to be my ray of sunshine, Mr Toro" I shook his hand.  
He laughed a little and replied. "You would not believe how many times I've heard that joke."   
 


	8. This is how I disappear- through the door of the psychiatrist's office

We walked along the grey corridors. There was the odd painting of a generic sunset hung in a wooden frame. But this was only for the enjoyment of guest. We hit a pair of white swinging doors with metal plates at the bottom so they could be kicked open if needed and a pair of windows with metal mesh lining them so you could only guess what was on the other side with the help of a few blurred figures walking past in their sky blue uniforms that hung off them like ill-fitting dolls clothes. Making all their shapes square and unnatural. "What's up with the uniform? There's no individuality about them what so ever. Not even the fit." I asked Ray.   
"Just rules. I don't know really I guess it keeps everything calm." He replied with a shrug of his shoulders.   
"I wouldn't call blue calm. Blue is something cold and clinical."   
"Yes well the cold and clinical part, is made up by my wonderful personality." He answered with a beaming smile.  
I of course, returned this sarcastically and a hint of grimace across my face. It was the kind of wonky smile drawn by a three year old.   
"Oh don't be like that." Ray complained. "I'd save that look for the psychiatrist." He added with a hint of mystery.  
The doors swung open and then I heard a click behind me. "Did you just lock me in?" I cried outraged.   
"Well we need to stop you escaping, obviously. Do you know how many people try to escape in their first week?" He exasperated.   
"No. How many?"  
He frowned. "I don't know. But it's a lot." He wavered. "That question was kind of rhetorical, you know."  
"Yeah I knew." I carried my tone lazily.  
He looked down at me with furrowed eyebrows. "You're a cheeky one aren't you?"  
I definitely knew that question was rhetorical.  
We began to get closer to white metal door and from the inside I could start to hear the mellow humming of some whilst others were crying and some were even laughing. "Don't worry not everyone's like this." He said pityingly, however I guessed the pity wasn't for me.  
I looked round to see Gerard. His footsteps were hesitant and he was biting his lip tightly so much so I could almost see a drop of red blood flow up like a drop. This is often where I began to wonder if Gerard's actions were my subconscious acting out. Or whether, maybe Gerard had his own worries and fears after all. "What's wrong?" I hissed quietly.   
"Nothing." He replied. I decided that it wasn't worth pressing. Not just yet anyway.  
As we got closer to the end of the corridor there was one room tucked away at the end. But the door was unpainted however the shape of the metal was exactly the same. "Hey. Who's in there?" I asked curiously.   
"Their identity is kept private." He answered as though it were a machine talking, as though those very words had been drilled into his head.   
But every step we took to get closer I could see Gerard's eyes screw up tighter, the wrinkles so very deep for such a young person. They looked as though they had been carved with a knife. His hands were clamped shut, the knuckles turning white. We stepped next to the door and just for a moment I swear I saw him fade. Just a little. But it was like a failed printing of a picture, the ink was so pale and then in an attempt to fix it the picture had been lined with felt tips. And then he was back and we continued down the hallway- however his breathing was heavy and a slight mist of sweat appeared across his forehead.  
This was different. It worried me.  
In my moment of thought I hadn't realised Ray had stopped at a white wooden door. So obviously I crashed into him with a sudden thud and his clip board and my bag flew into the air and collapsed onto the floor like a spirt of water.   
"Oh crap!" Ray said before covering his mouth with his hands in a sudden shock. "Sorry he mumbled under his hands in embarrassment. I bent down and started picking up the loose papers littering the floor. "Nah, it's cool." I started tapping them on the ground, lining the papers up, I reached up and handed them to him. Then I picked up my bag and slung it behind my shoulders.  
"Oh before you go in, you need to give me your phone and I need to have a quick look through your possessions, in case of, you know..." He trailed off awkwardly.   
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." I handed him my bag reluctantly.  
Ray rummaged through, his cheeks a little pink as he did so. He obviously wasn't very comfortable with this. He found my phone and placed it in his pocket and then had one quick look in my bag. He was frozen for a second but then he slowly removed a pencil sharpener. "You know I can't let you keep this Frank."  
"It's for my drawings, I need it." I said through the grit of my teeth.   
"Well when we find out you can be trusted. You can have it back." He said calmly pocketing it also.  
He grabbed a key from his lanyard holder and placed it in the lock. The door swung open eerily after there was a slight click from the mechanism. "In you go." He spoke in an endearing, however, despite me knowing he was a nice person, it made me feel as though there was something sinister about him.   
"You're not locking me in?" I asked hesitantly.   
"No, we only do that to people we feel are dangerous, or at night... you can go into the common room after you've settled in." And with that he walked away with the light flapping footsteps of someone in plimsolls.  
"The bed's actually pretty comfy." My head swung round and there behind me was Gerard, lying down, with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed. He closed his eyes slowly and left them there for a while.   
"Are you tired?" I questioned.   
"No, just relaxing."  
"Yeah sure..."  
"Hey Gerard?"  
"What?"  
"How long do you think I'll be here?"  
"Until I'm gone." He sighed softly. "You know Frank, people are still going to think you're insane until I disappear. So you are going to need to do what you were supposed to do all those years ago. Find some friends." Whilst he was saying this his eyes remained closed. He never looked me directly in the eyes when he mentioned this.   
"But you don't want to go, and I don't want you to go." I don't understand this constant obsession with this topic. We're fine how we are." I said defiantly.  
"...I've decided." Gerard said finally. "I'm not going to be here tomorrow when you wake up."  
"What?" I cried. "Why?"  
"Because I'm a distraction. But I'll return the day after. If you promise to talk to people."  
"Just stay."  
"Promise me Frank." He said sternly. "Please..."  
"Okay." But the way my nails were digging into the palms of my hands suggested that this was something I didn't want to do at all.  
"Right then, shall we unpack." He said leaning over my shoulder. I looked across and the bed was empty.   
"It still annoyed that you can do that." I replied looking behind me with a scowl.  
I pulled out my clothes and shoved them into a draw and then placed my sketch book on the desk and dropped the many pencils I owned next to it. "I can't believe they won't let me have a bloody pencil sharpener."  
"Yes you can, you know perfectly well why. I don't..."  
"It's called self-harm Frank and it does happen. It's for your own protection."  
"But now I'm going to have to draw with blunt pencils." I whined.   
"Deal with it." He replied and then stuck his tongue out cheekily. "Or Behave."  
"Oh Gerard you know I can't do that." I beamed at him mischievously.  
"Let's go to the common room." I stated brashly. "Scope out the area- that kind of thing."  
"-Look for certain escape exits." Gerard muttered.   
"Yeah, well there's no harm in trying, there may be an emergency." I thought for a moment. "Hey Gerard. Do you want to check out that secret room?"  
"No. Not really Frank. I believe it would greatly disappoint you."  
"Fine." I sighed. We went to the front door and began to trudge down the corridors. "I'm going to get lost here." I complained in anguish. "Everything looks the bloody same."  
"No it doesn't, look there's a sign." Gerard point at the corner of the corridor.   
"Yay! Progress." I said with fake enthusiasm. But my mouth closed suddenly when we turned the corner.  
It wasn't what I was expecting at all. It was like one of those fake housing estates that were used for nuclear testing in-..  
"It's the 1950's" Gerard said quietly into my ear. He was pressed so close I could feel him breathing on my neck. And then he drew away.  
But the way people sat there was though they were positioned by someone else, the fake ideal of how people should be looked as though they were straining no to fall and the only thing holding them was their chair. And from the people who were being visited by family and friends fake painted smiles were printed across their face, trying to convince them that they were fine, they were okay. They were getting better.  
But they weren't. They were the same. And it made me think maybe they're scared this was as good as they're going to get.  
I felt so bad for so long I'm scared I'm fine  
Maybe, just maybe I might not be as fine as I thought.  
In the room there was a small old style television with a fuzzy picture and it was on the news channel. I heard a mention of serve heat increase. It appeared to always be on that channel. There was no remote after all. All the chairs that were littered around they were a bright blue plastic. A similar colour to the nurse's uniform. I wouldn't be surprised if on one tired morning someone would get them mixed up.   
I spotted Ray's bobbing Afro in the corner, he was talking, but I couldn't see his face. I guess that was a sign he was busy. I sighed internally. This was going to be a long day.  
I felt a hand on my shoulder. For a moment I thought Gerard.  
It wasn't.  
Instead it was a Japanese woman with a short black bob and a grey suit. "Mr Iero." She smiled eerily, it was strained and fake. "Come with me. It's time for your evaluation."


	9. Thank You For The Venom, suddenly Gerard knocks it from your hand

I don't know what it is about this place but it feels as though boredom has become an emotion. So many of these places have been described to have walls so white it hurts your eyes, but I guess this place is quite old now. And the walls had turned to grey. The one colour, or shade if you're being technical, that makes the world view go fuzzy and undermine the hope you had when you first arrive. And that's why I guess he changed his hair to red. So red it was the colour of lipstick in the 1920's films. A little flash of colour in fields of grey, dull, blurs. It was like the reflection of a storm in a dark grey ocean. It trapped you there as though you were always trying to look past the surface but your reflection threw you back.  
That's what this place was to me. I was always trying to look in and understand but they always told me what to think and what was wrong as though several ticks on a page could explain everything about a person. And it scared me that they might be right.  
My hands were clasped together tightly, quickly becoming clammy. I could feel her eyes watch me as though she was looking for any sign of a fault, I could almost hear the mechanical ticking of her mind. I looked up and it was the mechanical clicking of her pen.  
There was a slight popping sound from her tightly pressed lips opening and colour flooded back into them like a tidal wave.  
I sighed heavily, inertia taking hold in a similar way.   
"So..."  
I waited.  
"...Frank..." she paused heavily, she was choosing her words carefully. Too carefully. "...How long have you had this problem?" The questioned seemed rather obvious to me.  
I groaned angrily and answered bitterly. "Since I was thirteen." I scowled at her. "But you already know that don't you, since it's written on your clip board." I looked up to see the mop of red hair looking down on the clip board. He grinned. "It says you have anger issues and paranoia," He laughed loudly at the next part.  
The woman flinched.  
I looked at her in confusion, but Gerard continued without noticing.  
"It appears your kind mother said that you're rude and ignorant."  
"Frank! Will you look at me when I'm talking to you?" The woman said crossly. She reminded me of my mother.   
"That depends, is what you have to say interesting?" That one small retort made me feel a hell of a lot better about this situation. Less trapped. Having control in a conversation means you have power. I was the agenda setter now.  
She appeared to be a little shocked at first but then her face drew back into faded lines and a blur of grey. "This isn't a good way to start, Frank Iero."  
"It's not my first day at school. And you're not my teacher. I. OWE. YOU. NOTHING." I spat at her coldly.   
I was walking towards a sun but it was sinking down and fast.  
"She just wrote down parent issues on her note page." Gerard said, peering closer.   
My voice threaded through with venom I said, "Well she got one thing right at least. I'm leaving." I got up from the chair and walked briskly to the door. Despite the adrenaline moving through my veins like a virus, fear shot though me as I turned my head away. Something about this woman wasn't quite right. Every instinct in my body told me she was a monster as soon as my head was turned. I didn't look back and marched with my head held high into the common room.  
I stood there a little dumbfounded stuck in the door way. There was something tugging my chest down, restricting my breathing, I couldn't step either way. I was scared to go in. There upon a hand rested on my shoulder and a small-toothed smile looked down at me. I smiled back and walked in calmly as though I were walking into my living room. However, there were still the remains of a pain in my chest like a bruise. "I don't know what to do or where I should sit." I whispered anxiously in his ear.   
"If you're scared look for an empty corner, however I think I just spotted Ray. Why don't you talk him first?" He suggested sweetly.   
"You're doing it again." I stated gruffly.   
"I'm just trying to help"- He trailed.   
"I know exactly what you're doing, and I am not going to lose you so you can forget that." I spotted a shadowed corner. "Oh look somewhere to sit!" Fake happiness was etched into my voice and I practically ran to it, scrambling at armrests. I was slowly drawing near but it felt as though my legs were being pushed back as though I were trying to battle the tide. My eyes were so focused on the grey corner with the lonely chair I screamed when a brown afro popped up in front of me.   
"Err hello Frank." He said hesitantly.   
"Hello... Ray... You scared... the hell out... of me." I replied, breathing in quick, shallow breaths.   
"I just wanted to check how the psychiatrist visit went. It seems you left early." He said peering down at his watch with concern.   
"She thought that I was at the peak of mental health and decided that there was no point keeping me longer than was needed." I said brightly, my eyes still glanced nervously round him looking at the corner.   
"You got into a fight with her and stormed out didn't you."  
"Yes, yes I did do that... Anyway it was nice talking to you." I rushed past Ray and launched myself at the lonely chair just as a girl began to head towards it. She glared at me in a way that could only be taken as 'I'm going to kill you' I smiled at her sheepishly.  
I turned my head back to find a blue outfit looming over me. I looked up and there stood Ray.  
Again.  
Great.  
"Hey Ray."   
"Frank. One day you and I are going to have a proper conversation without any jokes, but for now its medication time." He held out his hand. "Come on."  
"No Frank, don't go." Gerard whispered he seemed worried.   
"What kind of medication am I supposed to have?" I questioned not really knowing much more than antidepressants.   
"Well I think they are prescribing you a range of low-level neuroleptics because they're not sure how bad your schizophrenia is so it's best not to go too high at first."  
"I have schizophrenia? No that isn't right. I'm not insane."  
"You ran out before the psychiatrist had a chance to explain, I'm afraid that's what she believes you have."  
"I refuse." I said bluntly.   
"To what?"  
"To the medication."  
"Frank they'll put you in solitary if you do that."  
"I...I can't, they'll change me... I'm fine" I began to talk as though a mixture of words were ordered in random. Repeating and stuttering. I let out a small sob.   
"Oh Frank, I'm sorry please just take them today I'll try to talk to her see if there is any other alternative." He gently led me towards a long queue of people waiting, not speaking; they almost seem to sway as though they were blades of grass caught in a gentle breeze.  
Every part of me was telling myself that this was wrong and that I should not do this but as I looked back desperately all I saw was an encouraging smile from Ray and I took one-step closer until I reached the front.   
"Name." The woman asked bluntly from behind a protective wall of glass.  
"Err.. Frank Iero." I said weakly.  
She flicked through her pages and then handed me a paper cup. I took it from her my hands shaking. "You need to take it in front of me so I know." She said with a slightly annoyed look on her face.  
"Don't take them Frank." Gerard said in my ear. "You need to get better. But not like this. You're just lonely."  
"Shut up Gerard." I hissed. "I have to." I began to bring the cup to my lips; I could feel the fibres of the paper tickle the dry skin on my lips.  
"No!" He shouted, knocking the cup from my hands and letting them drop to the floor. He was not supposed to be able to do that. He couldn't. So how? "Gerard how did you do that?"  
"I.. I don't know." He appeared to be just as shocked as I was.  
"Frank what have you done?" Ray asked, disappointment laced through his tone.   
Before I had realised it two men grabbed me under my arms and dragged me back to my room. I was practically thrown onto my bed and before I even had the chance to turn around the door was locked behind me.  
"It must have looked like I dropped them on purpose." I whispered to myself.  
"I'm sorry Frank." He said his lip quivering and his face turning ghostly pale.   
"Gerard its fine I-"   
And then he vanished.


	10. All I Want is Nothing, except maybe Gerard

The next day Gerard was not there as he promised.   
"Damn you!" I cried into the empty grey room. My eyes were still blurry but the flash of red that I had gotten used to in a day was nowhere to be seen. Not one bit of colour. Just grey. Again. I was getting sick of this place. I let out a long sigh and grudgingly sat up. The blankets dropped from my shoulders cascading down to my hips the chill air hit me softly making the hairs on my arms gently stand. My eyes wondered around the room for a clock, from the bleed of sunlight that ran from a thin window behind me- at least I knew it was daytime. Apart from that, the time of day is completely uncertain. It reminded me of a Hitchhikers quote- 'time is an illusion. Lunch time doubly so.' Normally Gerard would have said that but now I was alone with my thoughts, there was no one to filter them or tell me what to do.  
It was a strange feeling, being alone with your mind for the very first time in a long time. I felt lost as though I were a leaf that had fallen from a branch and had begun to flutter down softly.   
People often say that loneliness hits you quickly- but I disagreed with it completely. Well maybe sudden realisation of being without someone feels odd. The sensation of loneliness is entirely gradual. It is the thought here and there, of when you think of something and have no one to tell or you need someone to confide in but with no one, there the words become stuck in your mouth; you have to swallow it down but for a while, your throat feels sore and scratched. This will build up after a few times. Maybe that is why people tell random strangers online what they feel.  
Now I had that odd feeling in my stomach and I sat there and waited for instruction and was met by the harsh banging on my door and a gruff voice barking at me to get up and dressed. I guess I could do that. Kicking the blankets to the end of the bed, I breathed a sigh of annoyance and relief, similar to the one when you had nothing to do all day and you would stomp around the house. Until a parent would eventually tell you to go out and by them a paper or some milk- anything.   
I turned slowly and my feet hit the cold vinyl floor with a thud. A thud is a very unwelcoming sound, something someone makes if they accidently trip and you were turn around and realise it was the last person you wanted to see. The warm soft feeling of a carpet was a lot better. It was like a hug for your feet, which in reality kinda tickled.  
I was reluctant to start walking but I assumed that the nurses did not want to wait for me, so I increased my pace to the white chest of drawers and pulled out the first lot of clothing I could find. I changed quickly and flung my door open to see a rather large man with whitish blonde hair cut short- it was a similar length to his beard. He was tapping his foot impatiently but smiled slightly when he saw me, looking slightly gormless and very tired. "Good morning." He said brightly, the gruffness of his voice was still there, suggesting to me that he perhaps smoked. He glanced down at my top. "I'm sorry man, great choice in music but you can't wear that." His voice seemed sincerely sorry.  
"It's Bob Dylan, seriously?" I argued.  
"According to the boss he promotes anti-government ideals." He shrugged slightly.   
"I think my wardrobe choices have shrunk considerably. I'll put a pyjama top on then." I skulked back into my room and reappeared in white.   
"I looked like a ghost." I complained.   
"You look lovely, it brings out the colour of your skin,"  
"What? White?"  
"Exactly."  
"Let's get breakfast." He said.   
"What time is it? I don't have a clock. Can I get a clock? I kind of need to know the time, I can't see outside."  
"It's okay Frank, I'll ask about the clock." He said calmly.   
"Thank you."  
A door slammed behind me and I spotted the man from yesterday go into the room with the metal door.   
"Hey who's in there?" I asked.   
"That was Mikey. He comes here a lot. He's nice but quite." He answered with a hint of warmth and pity in his voice.   
"Who is he visiting?" My mind wandering through possibilities.   
"Sorry I can't tell you that."  
"Would you want your friends knowing you were here?" He tried to explain.   
"I don't have friends." I muttered something awkwardly about if I had friends I would not be here in the first place.  
We continued forward until we reach the room, just on the outskirts you could pick up the high pitch buzzing of the badly tuned radio. "And the heat wave continues." Said a cheery voice of a strained man. He talked as though a gun was pressed firmly against his head. "The Government asks that you stay inside and keep the air conditioning up high." The voice faded away and we were left with white noise.  
"The government are bloody idiots, they know how low this country is on helium and we're using it up and becoming livestock at the same time." He grumbled.   
"We're running out of energy?" I asked worriedly.   
"You would think that finding an alternative to fossil fuels meant less pollution, but helium is literally floating through our atmosphere." He looked at me steadily in the eye. "Mark my words, if this carries on there's going to be a war."  
"Bob." A shrill voice spoke. It was her. "I warned you before. The patients don't need to know about this."  
"Yes I do!" I spoke up. "I never get told anything." My voice seemed whining and pathetic, insignificant compared to the low booming voice from Bob and the high pitch noise of the Doctor. I seemed to fade like the white noise behind me.   
"The patients deserve to know. They're not criminals." He said simply.   
"This is your last warning." And then she walked away.   
"I'm sorry, I should go." He said apologetically. He walked into a crowd of nurses and seemed to wash away like a puddle being swallowed by the ocean.   
"Don't go." I whispered reaching my hand out a little. And I was alone in the room, like I was alone in my room. I hated the idea that you could be alone in a room full of people. Never quite the one to be brave enough to speak first. I felt stupid. "Ah breakfast." I stuttered, looking around vaguely for something that resembled a canteen.   
I probably wouldn't have found it if it wasn't for the familiar rustle of a cereal box which caused my head to turn wildly to where the sound came from I spotted an open door full of people sitting around tables.  
The room was full. I decided I wasn't hungry and bolted out of the room and back to solitary confinement of my own making.  
If it wasn't for this I don't think I would have seen a glimpse into the room where nobody wanted to go.  
"Here you go, breakfast is by the door." A muffled voice said. It sounded like Ray. I heard a quite grunt that I assumed was the response. Curiously, I tilted my head further and caught a glimpse of the familiar white walls; however, mould was beginning to form in the corners of the room. It appeared as though it hadn't been cleaned properly for a while. The door opened slowly further and that's when I knew. Drawn on in pencil was a mural of a marching skeleton with people following him. I knew instantly that this was better than anything I could do and a seed of jealousy began to form despite the fact that they're life was likely worse than mine. I didn't know them and I had already begun to hate them. This always led me to hate myself further. But I didn't take my eyes away. I knew it was a morbid drawing but somehow it was the most colourful thing in this place; deep rich tones of blue and red were woven throughout and made the drawing seem warm and welcoming. But then was this drawing suggesting that death should be something that should be welcomed? This drawing had more meaning to it than I expected not many things make you want to question life the way that picture had.  
Suddenly the door was shut and there was Ray looking at me questioningly. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"  
"I finished early so I thought I'd go back to my room." I answered with a crooked smile. That's it Frank let him know you're lying.  
There was a long slow moment where nothing happened and during this, I stopped breathing.  
"Well okay then." He shrugged and walked away.  
As soon as he was gone I ran into my room and scrambled through my art supplies which had been carelessly thrown into my bag and finding a piece of paper and pen and then I ran to the front of the metal door. And scribbled down hurriedly, 'I like your artwork.' I shoved the pencil and paper under the door frame and sat there in awkward silence. I had given up on the idea of communicating almost as soon as I passed the paper under the door. That was until I heard footsteps and the obvious scratching sound of pencil to paper.   
I saw the paper slide back through the door. 'Thank you.' it said. I sat on the cold floor staring at the fluid, curled writing for what felt like hours wondering if the person who wrote this was a boy or a girl. Eventually I decided to ask.   
'Boy or girl?'  
'It's debateable.'  
What the hell did that mean?


	11. How It's Going To Be until somebody stands up to the bitch

These kind of cryptic words are often what leave me stumped, it's probably why I've never completed a cross word. My mind instantly went to weird mutations leaping out at me. A monster that had been locked away. However not long after I remembered about transgender or some kind of non-binary gender, I wasn't completely sure if I was being honest, but Gerard taught me about it a little bit.  
'Are you a they?' I shoved the paper back, it go caught on the seam holding the two edges of the floor down, crinkling it a little, but it went through none the less.  
'You're a cleaver one aren't you.' I could almost hear the grin in their handwriting. I was about to write something else but when the corridor grew darker in a place with no windows and I noticed the psychiatrist standing behind me.   
"You're not supposed to be here." She said sternly. "Twice in one day Frank. This isn't looking good." Her deep brown eyes seemed to burn into mine and I couldn't look away. So I closed my eyes. But the echo or afterimage seemed to remain floating around my eyelids. No this wasn't good at all.   
"I- I di-didn't know." I stuttered out. The rabbit caught in the headlights analogy seemed to fit well here.   
"Yes you did Frank, I can clearly see you're lying." The woman I met in the office seemed to be completely different to the one I was talking to now, she was calm, placid, and so much unlike the tense and screechy woman I had become used to. It was most likely she had me figured out and so I was left with the simple biological argument. Fight or flight. Fighting would most likely mean me being locked in my room for another day and an extra eye watching me at all times. Which meant I wouldn't get a chance to talk to them again but flight would just mean me getting found and being thrust into the same situation yet again. A retort rested on my tongue, my instinct taking hold, it was rude and vile and would make me happy whilst I said it.   
But there's always a third option, there's always a third option. The one that makes it feel as though you're being kicked in the stomach whilst saying it, the kind of thing that makes any leader be ridiculed throughout history. I could surrender. No I would have to grovel and kiss the hand of someone I detested. Not literally of course, that would be odd in this day and age.  
I breathed in deeply washing away the retort through a gust of air and looked down solemnly on the fake, grey, marbled floor. Soft material dented and scraped but never broken. I found it odd how something so soft and fragile had never been accidently ripped open. It was like skin in a way. But then again even the thickest skin be broken in the end. I wondered what was in it.  
My jaw was clenched, but I need to somehow force it to relax which was an oxymoron in a way.   
The woman with the deep brown eyes continued to look down upon me. It was now or never, I guess.  
"I'm sorry..." I said quietly.   
"I'm sorry?" The woman bent down closer as though she couldn't hear me. I was biting my tongue trying not to reply with 'that's what I said' or 'apology accepted'. She was clearly testing me in one way or another.   
"I'm really sorry; I promise I won't do it again." I said a little louder and with forced remorse. My eyes remained down but I couldn't help noticed the doctor's black shoes poking through me line of vision and I felt odd thinking at a time like this just how ugly they were.  
"That's better." She muttered. "Go back to your room. Now." – She clearly had paused for emphasis.  
"Yes Ma'am." I tried a little flattery, "You're shoes are lovely by the way." Then I ran into my room slamming the door shut behind me.   
I decided not to go straight away and lay on my bed; instead, I pressed my ear firmly against the metal. I heard angry muttering. I couldn't hear much. I looked around my room for a glass but was slightly disappointed with a plastic cup next to a jug of water that had clearly been festering for a couple of days. I could try... I guess. I picked up the cup a little nervous of it, unsure whether it would at all, however time was at the essence and I was intrigued by it tremendously.  
I felt my hands tremble slightly as I placed the cup against the door and then muffled voices became a lot clearer than I had expected, but kinda echoy.  
"What did you say to this boy?" She said in an eerie monotone voice. They didn't reply but instead let out a soft whimper. It was odd to hear something like that coming from their voice, the way they were writing showed someone who was confident and creative and quite honestly someone who would reply with a sassy remark.  
"What did you say?" She seemed to shout in a hushed way.   
I heard the familiar scribble of pencil and then another long pause.  
"Well what did you write? You know perfectly well what I meant."  
There was one long scratch. He clearly underlined what he had just written.   
"Oh please, you clearly communicated with him... You told him didn't you?" She let out a long exaggerated sigh. "This is the reason you're in here in the first place, freedom was too much for you and you became something that can't function in today's society."  
They let out a small sob again.  
"I'm trying to help you, you know that don't you?" She said softly. I could almost feel the rage boil up inside me as she said this. The way she was manipulating him and pretending she cared was sickening. I felt my fist tighten, they had become dry and warm as though energy was being sent there. And then I knew why. My fist flew down harshly against the metal door causing pain to fall down each of my fingers like electricity. I retracted my hand and clasped it closely to my chest; slowly noticing the echo of the metallic bang circling my room like water falling down a plug.  
The muffled grey talking stopped around then and I knew they had heard it too. My fate there and then, hung in the balance of the sentence of what was about to come. "Wait here I'll deal with you later." She hissed and stormed past my room until the footsteps became a distant echo. I sighed closing my eyes gently with relief.  
With no way out I walked slowly to my bed and laid down on it closing my slow enough to see the grey blur gently fade to black, my own distant horizon...  
 


	12. Art Is The Weapon the trouble is what art form

Morning came, and I grudgingly came to remember me drifting slowly asleep. Warm light trickled in through the small thin window above me and as the sun slowly rose creating a soft beam that scanned my room gently. As it hit my eyes creating a calming warmth against my face, it trailed across my sheets catching a swerving around the creators and canyons that's I had made in the night distorting it too flow against the deep sweeps and swerves of my blanket awkwardly. It continued down until it dropped from my toes suddenly and trailed against the floor reflecting the shiny vinyl plastic where scratches and dents had been made; however, the rectangle remained. Continuing across, until it reached a chair where there sat upon it was none other than Gerard. He smiled at me awkwardly, his messy red hair falling across his face like blades of grass swaying gently in the breeze.  
"Hey." He whispered.  
"Hi." I replied a little shocked at the prospect of him sitting there, in that chair. "Hi." I said again a little dumbstruck. My voice rising slightly.  
I scrambled over my sheets, my arms collapsing under when my had slipped on the soft flowing fabric. I was about to step off my bed when my foot got caught and I began to lurch forward where my jaw would meet the impending doom of the hard floor.  
Two hands grabbed hold of my holding my face inches from the ground. The surface of the skin was rough in places so I could feel callouses on his fingertips, and yet there was warmth radiating through them, the same warmth that keeps reminding me he was there. His fingertips lifted up my chin softly until my eyes reached his. "You're back." I sated.  
"Yeah I guess I am." He said flashing his teeth quickly.  
"I missed you."  
"I know." His eyes seemed to flutter for a second as the light hit his face and the green hidden in his hazel eyes seemed to brighten like holding green tissue paper to a window. "Did you do as I asked?" He questioned subtlety.  
"I tried, but I got scared and ran." I muttered ashamed.  
"I know you're scared Frank but I really think that talking to these people may be important." He replied with some amount obstinateness in his voice.  
"I spoke to one person, sort of." I said hurriedly already afraid of his reaction.  
"Who?"  
"The person in the room. I didn't really talk I more wrote and they replied but it was only a couple of words." I noticed myself that I had begun to talk like a broken slot machine.  
"Did you see their face." He asked leaning in closer so that my neck had become strained.  
"No, a door was in the way." I swallowed nervously, my throat had begun to grow dry and talking was getting more difficult.  
"Are they nice?"  
"Yeah they're lovely, but I think also very scared and alone." I answered truthfully.  
"Well that's good. Everyone needs a friend." He nodded to himself. "Let's get you up, you're hanging half off the bed."  
He reached under my arms and hauled me up to my feet so that I landed tamely on the floor.  
"So what do you plan to do today?" He asked his whole persona changing into something else, he had a slight bounce in his step and a grin plastered across his face.  
"Ah well that's the thing, I got locked in here after that psychiatrist found me."  
"Oh that bitch, she's a piece of work isn't she."  
"I thought you were against this whole judging people from one introduction type of thing."  
"Ah well, here I say you only need to know this woman for a second before making a guess on her." He replied with a grin.  
"True enough." I said with a slight shrug. "Err yesterday someone came to get me, I think that may happen again- I'm not sure though, it depends if I'm still in trouble or not." I looked around the room, my eyes searching for the clock I was promised.  
Gerard placed his arm against my shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay Frank, the sun has only just risen, which means it's most likely early morning." I looked back to face he the panic I was showing clearly reflected in his eyes. "I don't think anyone is going to be awake this early. Why don't you do something else, how about drawing?" He suggested noticing the pencils on my desk carelessly scattered.  
At first, I thought it was a good idea I hadn't really drawn for a while, but images of that mural kept coming into my mind and the horrid thought that I could never compare seemed dwell inside me. "I don't really feel like it."  
"You don't think you're very good any more do you?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow that seemed to open his eye up as though he was trying to look further into me.  
I said nothing.  
"You know Frank art is based on perception and although one may appear finer in detail if the passion isn't there, the love, then that drawing may as well be a mass produced print. You love art Frank and that's all that matters." It was odd whenever Gerard talked about art. It was another one of those moments that made me question whether he was someone in my mind. It was as though the pores in his skin had opened up and he had taken in this spark- this form of energy that burned inside him and the way he spoke hanging onto the edge of words and how he always seemed to roll R's every time 'art' passed through his lips. It often made me wonder that the reason I drew was because of Gerard's passion for it and I was just hanging onto the corner of the page while his words flew across the sheet. Maybe art wasn't for me.  
"I don't think I'm an artist." I said suddenly, cutting Gerard off before he had even begun to speak. "Or at least I don't think I was really meant to draw or paint, there's something else... I just haven't found it yet..." I trailed.  
Gerard smiled happily nodding a little. "That's good too. Yes we'll find out what that is someday, or maybe you'll find it on your own. But it's good that you're figuring out."  
"What exactly am I figuring out?" I asked a little irritated.  
"That you don't need me to figure out things for yourself." He smiled again but there was a small amount of grimace in it, it was forced, I could see that. Was he upset that I had done something without him; maybe he was scared of losing me as I was of him. No. He was scared I would lose him. It kind of made me happy that he would miss me is a kind of sick way. I guess every human had the need to have impacted in some small way in someone's life.  
But as my conscious settled I realised that this isn't the way I would want to be remembered, for someone to look back on memories and feel pain inside, I would want to be let go, not clutched onto with cold stiff hands. I wasn't worth it.  
"Gerard, will you miss me if I let you go?" I asked almost a breathless whisper.  
A look of fear contorted Gerard's face at the sudden brashness of the question. "...This isn't about me Frank, my purpose is to be here for you."  
"That's not answering the question. Please Gerard, answer..."  
"I couldn't exist without you." He breathed.  
I chuckled a little "Okay, there's no need to exaggerate." I said raising my hands in a defensive position.  
"I'm serious Frank, as soon as you're able to move on without me, I don't go back to a home for imaginary friends!" He exclaimed. "I was made for you and you alone. No one else will need me. Everything that I was and everything that I have become will disappear. And with time you'll forget me. Like all imaginary friends are forgotten." He leaned in closely holding my hands tightly and pressing his forehead against mine. "But that's not important. You need to understand. I was never real and I never will be real. So it doesn't matter. You forget me and live your life and I'm happy that I was there for this short amount of time."  
"That's stupid." I spit. "I saw in your face. You were scared Gerard." I laughed hollowly. "Hell, sometimes I don't even know if you are from my mind. If you think about it there are so many things you know that I don't." I started shouting at him angrily now as though it was somehow his fault these thoughts were in my head.  
"- It's probably buried somewhere in your sub"- He stuttered.  
"-No. Just no." I calmed down a little my voice growing softer. "It's not really very obvious, but I can tell, especially the way you talk about art, I see your own personality break away as though you're tasting freedom. Sometimes I feel as though you're caged by me and I know this but I'm selfish so I'm not letting you go. But even if I wanted too, you tell me you'll disappear into nothing. I can't let you go."  
He delicately smiled at me again, and though his smile seemed to show happiness his eye seemed sad, they appeared to be glassy as though they were poised at the exact moment before you cry. "Oh Frank..." He said. "You have it so wrong. I may be trapped. However, it's not by you. It's not your fault, it never was. You're looking through bars in a prison cell and you see me caged but when I look through and see you you're trapped too. Maybe it's not for the same reasons but we're in it together until the end."  
"Until the end?" I repeated still trying to take in the metaphor and repeating it as though I were a child trying to learn how to spell.  
And just like a child who didn't understand something. I began to cry. Softly at first, no sound came from my mouth but as the tears fell they began to sit on my cheek bone before falling heavily like the rain in the gutter that began to spill over the edge and like always, Gerard knew that now was the time to wrap me into his arms around just as I began to collapse. And I sobbed onto his shoulder as he held me tightly. He was always so strong, maybe not this time, as I felt something cold drip onto my neck and I knew he was crying too...


	13. Keep your bad vibes out of my cornflakes I'm not interested.

"Err Frank, who are you hugging?" I looked up to see the confused look of the blond bearded man standing in the doorway, his mouth agape.   
"Huh? - Oh no one"- I stumbled. "There's a fly in my room and I was trying to catch it." I answered abruptly dropping my hands to the side.   
"Well okay then... anyway the psychiatrist said that you can come out your room now and I think that maybe you should try and eat something today." He said with a warm feeble smile.  
I was about to argue but from a stern look in Gerard's eyes told me otherwise. "I'll try. But no promises." I said jumping to my feet.   
"Oh and Frank" I my eyes flickered across to see Bob throw a digital clock towards my hands; I caught it in my hands drawing the weight close to my chest.   
"Thank you." I said happily reading the time as '9:30am' and then placing it down gently on my bedside table, my arms straining to reach across the bed diagonally.   
"I wasn't really supposed to get you one, but it's from my flat, so think of it as a gift." His voice was gentle and suggested to me that he maybe gave a damn. I liked that about him.   
"I'm really grateful, seriously, thank you." I looked at the clock again '9:32am' and then turned to face Gerard who gave me a happy smile and an indication that we should probably leave now. I turned away and began to follow Bob out the door.  
The door slammed shut but I turned to see Gerard next to me. He smirked a little, still smug about his abilities. I glared and continued forward, my mind already starting to forget the anger and confusion in my head only moments ago, he was good at that.  
We continued to walk before I crashed into Ray, again. "Oh Frank! Just who I needed to see." He said brightly grabbing my shoulders tightly. "I forgot to tell you, we have group therapy today."  
"Hey Ray." I grinned. "I'm looking forward to it. What time is it so I can hide and accidently miss it." I said in a clearly fake cheerful voice.   
"It's at ten thirty, but don't worry I'll be keeping an eye on you so you don't miss it." Ray reiterated, mocking me a little. "Hey Bob do you want me to take Frank to breakfast?"   
"If you wouldn't mind, I've got a ton of paperwork, and to be honest"- He said leaning closer towards Ray's ear. "I don't really think the psychiatrist wants me around Frank too much." He whispered his eyes searching for the elusive woman who could appear at the mention of her name. Not that anyone has told me what that name was.  
"Come on then Frank" Ray said using his hand to guide me towards the common room. As we drew closer the white noise buzz of the badly tuned radio began to bounce around in my ears getting faster and faster until I could hear him talk, "Good Morning America!" He shouted loudly causing the radio hiss and screech at the increase in volume to which the speakers could not cope. "Another sunny day and the president just wants to remind you to stay cool and keep those air cons on and oh some great news for you soda lovers a new drink has been released with the recently discovered additive Zb12, well known for its great taste! It's in stores now, a perfect drink for this hot weather." His voice seemed to lose the scary cheeriness it had before as he began to introduce a song. "And now for the first song of the morning. Perfect World by Jason Stone." As soon as the first note played I could tell it was another easy money generic pop songs that the government had been producing, making no time for the old or the new and unknown bands no one had really heard before. "I hate this song." Gerard and I said in unison. "Hey maybe there's a CD player and I can play some of my CD's and we can burn the radio."  
"Don't you think that's a bit selfish?" Said Ray.   
"What do you mean? You know this song's crap." I said tilting my head to the side in confusion.   
"And your point is? Look around Frank; look at the people before you make judgments."  
"What a few of them are smiling?" I said getting slightly angry now.  
Gerard leant closer to me, his warm breath tickling behind my ear. "Look at what he's trying to teach you Frank, look at the people more closely what they are doing?"  
"A few of them are dancing, just slightly and a group in the corner are singing along."  
"And what does that suggest to you?" Said Ray again.   
"That they like this song?" I said a little unsure.   
"People should listen to what they want to it doesn't matter what I think, but do you want people to stop smiling just because you don't like a song?"  
"No I just thought... I don't know..."  
Ray smiled brightly again. "I have an idea since I'm running group therapy we'll get people to pick a song and explain why the like it and then we'll play it."  
"You're only just planning this now!" I cried a little shocked.   
"What can I say, I'm an impulsive person, but that way we can share and maybe understand each other better." His silly grin was still plastered across his face but for the first time I spotted a similar wisdom to Gerard's. "Come on you must be hungry." He continued to guide me to the hall and again I halted at the door.  
As I looked in it reminded me a lot of the canteen back at school and that perhaps is the reason I hated it so much. For me school was never fun. "Frank you need to go in to get food." Ray said softly.  
"I can't do it." I hissed in Gerard's ear.   
"Yes you can. You're looking at things through the wrong perspective again. This isn't high school." He answered warmly grabbing my hand and squeezing it tightly. And it was as though that was the trigger and now I looked again it was just people talking to each other, there was no sneers, no people throwing food and no people looking for a reason to punch something. "It's odd isn't how a place like this can have people behaving civilised and yet school environments seem to have people with a list to punch or be punched."  
"It definitely is." I agreed. After a long intake of air, I breathed out steadily. "Okay let's do this." Then I began to walk quickly down the middle, picking up a tray swiftly and setting it down on the metal runners.  
I looked up to see a smiling woman, with large eyes and deep wrinkles. However they only seemed to be this way when she was smiling, suggesting to me that she was a kind woman who probably deserved a better job than the one she was doing now. "What will it be kid. Porridge, over cooked egg or stale cornflakes? Excellent choice I know." She said jokily.  
I smiled back at her, "I think the cornflakes might be the best bet." I answered weary of the food and anything that needs to be cooked.   
"Here you go." She said passing a bowl of dry cornflakes. "Milk's in the fridge." She said pointing at the storage next to her.  
"Thank you." I nodded at her and walked over to the fridge and began to open the door. However I noticed a slight problem, the fridge seemed to be moving and the door wasn't opening.   
"Here, there's a knack to this." Ray said appearing behind me. He put one foot on the side he wasn't using and used his hands to pull the door open, his face going red in the process. "Here you go." He said handing me the milk triumphantly.   
"Thanks Ray." I took the milk from him and poured it sloppily in the bowl. The next challenge now was finding somewhere to sit. However there wasn't a free table. I think Ray noticed this too.   
"Look you don't really know anyone yet and making you sit at a table with people you've never spoken to is unfair, so we'll go into the common room and eat there and then once you start talking to people in group therapy, well, we'll take it from there."  
"You're so adamant group therapy is going to work aren't you."  
"Of course, I'm running it." He used his thumbs to point in the direction of the door. "Ready to go?  
"Ye-"  
"Frank. Spoon." Gerard stated pointing at the lady holding a plastic spoon in her hand.   
I grabbed it hurriedly "Thank you, sorry." I stuttered and followed Ray back into the common room.  
He sat down in the centre at a table for two. This left Gerard standing behind me hovering like a shadow. I ate quickly trying to ignore the taste. It was odd when things were stale it's like lactose free chocolate. Well that's how I imagined lactose free chocolate to taste. A pale imitation.   
Ray glanced down at his watch and then stood up the chair scrapping loudly as an attempt to grab people's attention. "Okay then, Group one, It's group therapy time. He said loudly and happily." And what I guessed was group one sighed loudly in response.  
This chapter is dedicated to Cheesegirl1822 sorry for the wait, however when I promised a chapter I didn't realise it would be based on breakfast. However a man's gotta eat even if he's a fictional character... but hopefully a proper update will be soon 


	14. (for this chapter i need your help) I Said Save Me! From group therapy...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I want to include you guys in this so this might not work since my story is pretty new but 5 people should be enough. So yeah comment your name or the name of a person who inspires you and your favorite song and why, doesn't matter what it is as long as you love it I'll wait to see then I'll finish the chapter  
> And for now I will leave this chapter alone and keep updating it for everyone who comments but i'm going to move on with the plot now...  
> Finally ;-)

I was now sitting in a room full of people staring gloomily at the floor whilst Ray was smiling anxiously.  
He continued to smile for a considerable time.  
"This wouldn't happen to be your first time, would it Ray?" I asked from sheer boredom.  
Ray shrugged sheepishly and nodded. Before looking around the group of people, dressed in the same clothes, that off white colour that could only appear if you used cheap detergent and perhaps when I accidently mixed a new black top amongst the white washing. Another thing I had pick up on was people's hair. It was of course impossible for everyone to have the same colour but it was as though everyone's hair was the same tone. To put it another way if they were made into a grey style photo- then it would be the same colour.  
"Okay since it's my first time, I've noticed that personality is a huge thing that's neglected in a place like this- so I want you to tell me your name and favorite song." He turned to me. "Frank would you like to start?"  
I nod before managing to stutter out a sentence. "My names Frank Iero and one of my favourite songs I guess is... er well I really like Ball and Biscuit by The White Stripes... But there's more I love... Yeah..."  
"So how about you?" Ray offered another encouraging smile to the girl sitting next to me. She looked back timidly sinking further into her chair.   
"I dont really have one." She answered shyly, her long brown hair falling limply across her face.  
"Not even a preference?" He tried.  
She shook her head rapidly, "No one would like it."  
I turned fiercely towards her, "That doesn't matter! As long as its important to you." I almost skulked back into my chair unsure of where the sudden outburst came from and I could hear a splutter of amusement from Gerard behind me noticing how my attitude towards things changed- I scowled harder.   
"Well okay then, I-I like The Last Tear by Trapt, the song reminds me of high school."  
"It doesnt sound like a happy song." Ray stated thoughtfully.   
"It wasnt a happy place." She said simply not willing to say more.  
I watched as Ray tilted his head contemplating whether he should test her further, his eyes widened as he gazed at her deeply "Why?"  
She sighed deeply before answering, "I had a lot of fake friend they used me and lied to me and put me through so much I became exhausted to the point well I wanted to leave school and stay at home and then I got worse and then I ended up here," She laughed a little, "It's strange I almost prefer it here than school. But I dont think it should be like that."  
"Thank you, er.."  
"Its Lydia."  
"Thank you Lydia."  
Ray peered down at his notepad scanning across the names, "Is Amy here?" He asked.  
"Yep!? Said a girl raising her hand happily. "My favourite ah thats difficult I have so many." She giggled lightly. I would have to say "This Is Gospel by Panic at the Disco." She paused thoughtfully for a while and then continued. "I'm not really sure why its just one of those songs that connects with me, you know?"  
"And thats completely fine."


	15. Pinkish

Music had begun to play softly through the speakers after numerous attempts to get it to work the speaker was taken from Ray and Amy connected it for him with a humorous giggle.  
"Bluetooth never works for me." He muttered sulkily.   
"It's because you're too impatient and keep tapping at it." She retorted and sat triumphantly down on her chair.  
Although the music was nice in the background it was often difficult to pick up on the background noises of songs, and sometimes they truly add something special to it like the piano in Rock 'N' Roll where a man walked into the studio and started playing alongside Led Zeppelin. Or the thudding heat beat sound at the end of Eclipse by Pink Floyd. I wonder if these more recent songs had something similar or whether the era of leaving aeroplane sounds at the beginning of the track because you recorded it in a trailer were behind us.  
It got to me to the point where I wanted to press my ear against the metal wire and feel the vibrations emanating against my skin and the pain in that you get from behind your ear when you leave your earphones in your ears too long and the music's too loud but then the cold air hit's it and it hurts even more.  
"Hey can we turn it up a little?" I ask expressionless.  
Gerard smirked a little before asking me, "What about the magic word?"  
"Please." I stutter. Sitting on my hands to stop them shaking, beads of sweat had begun to build up on the palms of my hands, I couldn't quiet pin down why I was nervous. Maybe it was sudden realisation that my music lives in the past I hadn't even begun to consider what new music was like, dismissing it as auto tuned crap. But every song holds meaning to someone and they may not be the best in my opinion it doesn't mean to say that song is not needed because to another person my opinion is completely wrong, that is to say that with music there is no "correct way".  
And so I sit nervously in the chair feeling childish and stupid for not understanding before and I listen out for things that make the songs special to people, still unsure whether I actually like the songs but appreciating them just a little more.  
As Ray slowly increases the volume I can hear the heartbeat of the drums from one band and the little giggle of another as they mess up the intro and continue along with the small smiles of the people around me as they're song starts playing or the slight blush of another because they're music taste is so different to everyone else's. And suddenly I'm finally starting to see colour in this grey place.  
That is until the cold-hearted stare of The Psychiatrist looms over us and the music dwindles away into a sense of bathos. "What is the meaning of this?" She Spits. I look up and of course her suit is that uncomfortable grey wool that people suddenly decide to wear in winter despite it being too itchy and too hot.  
"We're listening to music to try and understand each other better." Ray replied calmly.  
She glared piercingly at him. "Do you not know the rules Ray? Most these songs here are promoting depression as something good and too be copied."  
"That's not true!" Cried Lydia.   
At that point, she decided to redirect her glare. "What?"  
"That's not true." She replied a little meeker. "It's not promoting it, it's there to help you to understand it and to show that it's not only you who feels sad much in the same way that happy songs are there to connect those who are happy or need cheering up. And it's not just the music, it's the people too who fight against all of this but some have been through it too and come out the other side." Her voice began to grow the more and more she spoke, "This music has helped me more than any of the sessions with you have"-  
-"Enough!" She shouted. And Lydia sunk back down into her chair and her attention focused on Ray again. "Since you are clearly incapable, all future therapy sessions are going to be run by me."  
I glanced at her in distaste, knowing that this was never going to be the same insightful experience and that perhaps people are going to be made to share more than they care to.  
"Well this sucks." Said Gerard pouting a little.  
Ray suddenly jumped up in protest but realised that a protest wasn't going to solve anything. "But you have a lot on your plate already- I promise I won't play music again, please give me another chance." He begged understanding what a therapy session with her would entail.   
"No." She replied bluntly and left the room, her high heels chipping away at the floor but also our souls.  
"Dammit." Ray muttered. His shoulders slouched, "I guess you can either go back to your rooms or go to the common room for now but after lunch I think everyone can go outside."  
As Ray began to walk out a stream of people followed leaving Gerard and I standing alone a little confused but mostly annoyed. "That woman is the Queen of malice, I swear." I shouted angrily. "She had no right to do that, she's supposed to be helping us and yet when we finally start to understand each other she cuts us off, it's like she's trying to isolate us!"  
"Hey calm down a bit." Said Gerard softly, placing his hand gently on my shoulder. "Shouting at nothing isn't going to change anything, just remember you need to sit tight until you can leave."  
"Forget that." I mutter. "Things won't change if you don't stand up for something, I may be an ignorant teenager but the way she's running this place isn't right, it's almost as though she doesn't want us to improve so everyone has to stay here out of public sight."  
"It's not that bad here." Gerard reminded me. "There's rules yes, but that's the same for every establishment."  
"I don't like it Gerard, something doesn't sit right."  
Gerard nodded his head in agreement, "That I agree with, something is definitely off, but we can't do anything until we find out what." He looked directly at me. "And I don't want anything to happen to you, so for now, don't take the medication, just in case." This was the most serious I had seen him for a while now. "Common, he said guiding my shoulder, let's go back to the common room."  
"Fine." I replied a little reluctant to go back but I knew this was another one of Gerard's attempts to get me to make friends- ha! Like that was going to happen.  
We stepped out of the room into the hall and the metallic echo of the radio bounced against the walls warning us about another heat increase and advertisement for some kind of fake chocolate with only 2% fat and 95% additives.


	16. Photography all the time

"So... What do you want to do?" Gerard drawled, extenuating the O's with considerable force.  
I shrugged lazily, "What is there to do?" I looked around with slight distaste as despite the many tables there was nothing on them. The recycled plastic flecks glinted slyly towards me as my eyes scanned desperately for something slightly entertaining; the endless repetition of pale blue gave the impression of staggered clouds when a failed attempt of panning on your camera. But hey at least they weren't white.  
My eyes glanced up to spot a small corner of games; they were old and clearly donated by the many visitors that came here. This was easy to see due to the frayed brown edges of the boxes that replicated the soft brown dirt the breaks through the cracks in concrete after ants had begun borrowing in the ground. The ink was faded on many of the boxes and the titles were unrecognisable for most of them, which clearly showed they were unwanted, but despite this a heavy layer of dust had now settled on the boxes- it appeared no one wanted to play them either.  
"We could try the games in that corner." I pointed brashly in the direction of the boxes.  
Gerard frowned a little, "They don't look very appealing." A childish disappointment was clear.   
"Hey appreciate what you have." I replied in mock humour from Gerard's earlier outburst.  
He continued it by exaggerating his nods, "Quite right Frank, quite right." He grinned wildly. "Let's take a look." He sprinted towards the boxes and looked at them with curiosity, and then his lips curled upwards mischievously. "Hey Frank, I think I've found you a new hobby." Gerard called.  
"What is it?" I ask jogging over to him until we stand shoulder to shoulder. I look down to see an old, battered, plastic black box. "What is it?" I repeat.   
"Pick it up and find out." He said to me in a way that could only suggest that it was obvious.   
I leant down feeling the air thicken as I began to breathe in more dust, it made my throat become dry in a way that rain drops make your skin wet. Each particle fell one by one on the back of my tongue and began to cluster until I felt I had to swallow to enable myself to breathe.  
As my hand began to reach out for the box, I heard Gerard say, "Did you know dust mainly composes of human skin." I choked a little. "What?" I spat. He smirked and I quickly picked up the box and wiped away the dust, holding my breath as I did so. "I still don't know what it is." I complained a little agitated.   
"Why don't you open the box and find out then."  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I muttered but I did as he said, placing the box on the nearest table and opened it expecting to find it to be empty or full of junk, but instead it was another black box. It was about the size of my palm and the thickness of a small book. The texture of the black plastic was as though it was dried snakeskin, however this was just the style of the time, or maybe the texture was there for grip. The top strip was that of a matt silver colour and this is where the lens was, it was small, the size of a two pound coin and, luckily, not broken. Sitting on the top were one button and a second button perhaps that was a short metal stick type thing, which looked like a record needle holder clipped onto the edge. What was in front of me was a camera.  
... I looked at it a little confused. "...Photography? Really Gerard? I only just about know you probably press that button there." I pointed randomly at the two choices- it was fifty-fifty after all.   
"Actually, it is... that one, just there," he replied redirecting my finger. "Anyway it's probably not that complicated I'm sure there's an instruction manual somewhere."  
I lifted the camera up to see an instruction booklet underneath. "See I told you" He beamed.  
I began to flick through the manual, feeling how delicate the paper was after being unused for such a long time, "hmmm, apparently it's called Yashica Electro 35." I flicked through looking for the instructions on how it worked, letting my finger brush each edge of a page.   
"Ah stop there!" Gerard cried placing his hand like a bookmark between two pages.  
My eyes glanced across the title. "Instructions." I read out happily, "Okay so how do I turn it on..."  
Gerard placed his finger further down the page, "According to this it doesn't need a battery in decent lighting, as long you adjust the aperture setting manually. However it does recommend it." He peered in closer letting his hair drop around his face. "It's asking about film, is there any in the box?"  
"Er," I put my hand in scratching at the corners until I felt my hand grab hold of a cylinder. "A-ha!" I held it in the air and then placed it on the table. "Now what?"  
"Okay so you pick up the camera-"  
"-obviously-"  
"-And then you flick that bit you thought was the button to take a picture..."  
"-and... Oh the back opens!"  
"Now put the film in and close it."   
I tried placing the film in one way before realizing it was upside down and clumsily turning it around before closing the case with a slight click.  
"And there you have it, one working camera." He said with a giggle.  
I held it up over my eye towards Gerard. "Let's try it." I said and quickly pressed the button.  
Gerard looked up with a sad smile, "That's not going to work." He told me.   
"But it's worth a try don't you think, maybe these older cameras will pick you up like they do with ghosts." I thought for a moment and considered that maybe the stories about ghosts were fake as well, and all there would be a picture of is some tables.  
"I wouldn't waste it like that, why don't you wait until we go outside this afternoon, after all you can only take 24-26." He added after reading the instructions again.   
"Fine" I muttered my shoulders slouching a little. I attached the strap onto the camera and hung it over my neck protectively. "Let's take the box to my room."   
We walked back towards my room, my eyes looked round suspiciously as though I had uncovered something secret and didn't want anyone to know about it.   
"Oh Frank I see you found my old camera." Ray said happily as I walked straight into him. Again.   
"This- this was yours?" I grabbed it defensively.   
"Oh don't worry you can keep it, I could never take a decent photo. I'm glad to see it out of the box." He grinned. "Well its lunch time soon so don't stay in your room too long. Oh and Frank, I tried to talk them into giving you a different form of medication, but I'm a bit too much in the bad books at the moment, I can't really push it any further."  
"No it's okay, thanks for trying anyway." I mumbled and walked into my room, closing the door behind me.  
"What do I do Gerard?" I sigh helplessly. "I'm going to have to take it willingly or they're going to start forcing me to take it."  
I got a look of concern from Gerard.   
"Maybe if I just take it today and then we figure something out tomorrow." He still didn't seem to like this idea.   
"Maybe just today, but I really don't trust this place very much, even if it does work medication shouldn't be the only answer, there's always a cause and sometimes it not just to do with brain chemistry."  
"So..." I said deciding to change the topic of conversation. "How are we supposed to get these photo's developed once I've taken them."


	17. Give Me All Your Pills and I'll find a way not to take them

Here I was again, in the que waiting to take the medication I didn't need. I gulped. Gerard had already disappeared, not willing to act out in the same way he already had. In some ways I was thankful, but most of all I wanted Gerard by my side telling me it would be okay.  
"Next," the lady droned. I took one step forward, my chest growing tighter.  
It's okay, just for today. Nothing will change. But what if Gerard disappeared forever?  
"Next." I took one step forward.   
It wasn't just that though, if Gerard were to disappear, would it mean that everyone was right all along? Was I really insane? Part of me wasn't willing to find out.  
Next." I took one step forward.   
I could feel my heart pounding and the palm of my hands grew clammy. I hurriedly wiped them on my jeans, feeling self conscious and embarrassed- everything just got worse.  
Next." I took one step forward. Somehow I was already at the front of the cue.  
I took one step back.  
"I said next," the woman grumbled irritably. I felt a hand on my back steering me towards the front. I didn't know who it was and I didn't dare look around.   
I often wondered about destiny. Not in the silly romantic way of finding your true love. Nor in the way where you become a hero, like in the Star Wars films. No, I thought about the smaller steps of destiny where everything around you seemed to be pulling you in one direction no matter how hard you tried to stop it. The kind where everything you do to avoid the bullies in your class meant that you would coincidently bump into them one corner away from your house.  
It isn't like they knew you'd be there but in some strange sense... you did.  
And so the hand of destiny was now pushing me to the front of the line. A place I didn't want to be to take pills I didn't want to take and the pills were now in my hands.  
It would have been so easy to throw them in the bin, scream and kick up a fuss and I often wondered why I didn't. However I found myself swallowing them dry and walking deliriously back to my room. The room swayed a little, I wasn't used to taking pills, even from a young age I would refuse painkillers and cough syrup. Not in fear but just because I didn't really think they would work.  
"Gerard?" I mumbled quietly. There was no reply. I sighed apathetically. The pills were probably working.  
"Frank is that you?" Spoke a soft quite voice, it sounded slightly syrupy as though they'd been crying. I considered my options on who it could be. The only plausible explanation being that the mysterious person with the metal door's room was somehow linked to mine.  
"Yeah, It's me."  
"Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean for that to happen," they croaked  
"S'okay." I whispered, not really blaming this person for anything that had happened."  
They were silent for a moment, as though they were carefully considering my two word reply. Perhaps they were testing to see if I were genuine. But then again perhaps they had just spaced out.  
"Hello?" I questioned.  
"Hmmm, Oh sorry." From the sound of it, I wouldn't be surprised if they were blushing.  
"Are you okay?" I ask a little concerned.  
"Oh yes, It's just my medication... It makes my mind... juddery... muddled. Sometimes I forget where I am."   
"That doesn't sound safe. Shouldn't you tell someone about that. Maybe they could change the prescription."  
"They wouldn't listen. They probably think I'm worse when I'm off medication." They didn't sound too concerned with this as though this was an accepted fact, in their reality at least.  
"That still doesn't sound right. You should make a fuss. Make them listen." I stayed, maybe a little angrily.  
"It doesn't matter," they replied brushing off my idea from thier shoulder with a flick.  
I shuffled on my bed so that the pillows lay against the wall, my spine beginning to hurt from being pressed up against the wall.  
"Hey I saw your art work, it was amazing." I said deciding to change the subject before it ended in argument.  
"Really? You liked it?" They asked happily.  
"Seriously, the way you got the colours to express emotion the way you did... I could never draw like that."  
"Thank you. But you shouldn't give up art because of that."  
"I won't, but my attention is more focused on photography at the moment."  
"Do you enjoy it?"  
"I guess, but I haven't really taken many pictures yet." I sighed a little sad I had nothing to show for myself. Not that they could see it.  
"So it's a new hobby?" They asked, their mischievous behaviour from their first conversation reamergeing.   
"Yeah, Gerard and I.."   
"What?"  
"No it doesn't matter." I knew they would hate that phrase as much as I did but there was much I could say other than that. It was strange I was reluctant to tell people about Gerard in a place where somthing like this was common, or at least not uncommon.  
"Okay." They answered not really indicating whether or not they cared. This made me fearful, just one slip up could mean the end of our friendship before it even began. The conversation could dry up and I would be alone once again. How I longed for a friendship where we could sit in silence without awkward hung in the air, listening to music or watching TV.  
"I'm sorry." I speak hurriedly, as though I was trying to block a leak before too much water was lost. "It's just-"  
"No I understand, there are some things you can't say. Not yet at least."  
I smiled relieved.  
You know what I was saying about little moments of destiny? This chance encounter with the mystery person was probably one of the good on-  
There was a bang on the door. "Time to go outside." Bob called from the other side  
I groaned.  
"Yes I know, getting fresh air and vitamin D, can really be such a pain." He said a little sarcastically.  
"Bob, can you give me five minutes?" I try pushing my luck.  
"I haven't been to your room yet. Got it?" Bob said sternly.  
"Thank you!"  
"You owe me Iero."


	18. You Only Live Forever In The Lights You Make, meanwhile Australia disappears

It was rather cold for such a warm day and I braced myself as I stepped out feeling the strange contrast and the surprisingly warm sun that hadn't touch my skin for two days now. I didn't realise I had missed it. But I closed my eyes and felt the rays across my lids the dark rose colour flooding my vision.   
The camera was clasped tightly in my hands and I was vaguely aware of the sense of uncertainty that came from using a camera like this. I couldn't really know how these pictures would turn out until they were printed unlike the camera phones people so often use now. Rarely any skill needed and you could take an okay photo. I wasn't complaining- far from it. The security of the camera phone was somthing I was used to. This was something new.  
The fence that surrounded us was at least three metres high and was a sharp metallic colour that juxtaposed the sandy desert surroundings that encompassed the facility. I think the fence was there too keep people from getting out but the view beyond the fence was dusty, dry and overall unappealing compared the lush green grass that people walked on. I feel as though Gerard would have something to say about the mind games the facility was trying to pull, but right at this moment all I cared about was the twenty four/twenty five photos I could take. My mind went back to the photo I took of him. Perhaps it did work and I would have the proof to get out of this place. Then again, home wasn't really much better than this, although I did miss my tree. I brought the camera to my eye trying to see the view through it's perspective, the distorting fisheye lens making it difficult for me to get a clear view. My eyes squinted trying to readjust, feeling the sun's warmth once again focused through the lens whilst the rest of my face remained cool from the shadow cast by the camera.  
It was difficult to chose what picture to take, I was limited by the size but the vast quantity of possibilities overwhelmed me slightly- especially when people began to pour through the doors, each individual so unique and yet we were all treated the same in here. Anyway it was unlikely I could take pictures of people without their permission and I didn't really want to ask - it'd seem odd in a place like this.  
My eyes looked round finding nothing that really appealed to me... that was until I heard a slight buzzing sound. My eyes darted in the direction of the sound feeling the wings of the bee brush against my ear. At this moment in time I couldn't know if it was a fly, wasp or perhaps it was a bug. But the soft delicate touch of something round and fluffy was overall most appealing to me. I focused on a yellow blur in the horizon, it was tiny and unnoticed by most, maybe a piece of fluff broken away from a t-shirt- then again nobody wore yellow around here.  
In the distance there was a low rumbling sound possibly from the drill, inconsequential to people like us in here but the rest of the world moves on  and breaks down; I guess. Ah there it was! I had found the critter hovering manically in front of my eyes why I looked round it, forgetting my intention in the first place. I precariously raised my camera up, fearful of scaring the bee that was so conveniently in my view, a few centimetres closer and I felt a strange premonition that the bee wasn't going to cooperate. I took the picture quickly and the bee flew away. I knew the photo had been a waste. I sighed, discouraged by my lack of control and the camera hung loosely around my neck once again.  
My attention span was, I admit, short however I decided to call it a day with photography and head inside whilst it was still quiet. My head was hung low and my shoulders slumped as I made it through the double sliding doors. Ray clearly must have seen my defeated look and walked over.  
"Are you okay Frank?" he questioned cautiously.  
"It's fine, I'm fine. I just can't seem to get the knack of this that's all."  
"How many photos have you taken?"  
"So far? Two."  
"That's exactly the problem, you can't be expected to be good at something the instant you start it. Things that are important take time otherwise we'd all be great artists and scientists."  
"Yes, but, an element of talent has to come into play, also, often people have to discover they're okay at something before they decide to improve on that skill."  
"Ah, you have a point, but there are people who become good at something through practice alone."  
"They're never the famous ones though, are they?" I shouted angrily feeling the moments before I cry begin to well up, and over something so petty as well. This was jealousy that's all there was too it. I pushed it back down knowing that I'd let myself down just from having these emotions.  
"You know Frank, Van Gogh never thought he was any good. His entire life only a few paintings were brought out of pity. But he continued to paint. And like I said two photographs isn't enough to judge a photographer- it'd be a biased sample."  
He walked away after that, not smiling, no pat on the back, nothing. His speech was there to teach me, not to comfort me. It left me unsettled and slightly confused. The words alone were easy enough to comprehend but I felt there was a deeper meaning to them that I would later come to understand. For now, however, I was left to consider what he said.  
The common room was completely empty, which was odd to say the least. Not one staff member patrolled the room to encourage patients to go outside again and there was no patient to say it too. It was reasonable to believe that the only patients left in the building were myself and the mysterious person behind the metal door. If going outside was something like a human right for us, It's strange to think why they don't ever seem to leave that room.  
Despite the room being empty visually, sound could be heard. Like always the radio was left on birring and crackling in the background as though some vague attempt to turn off the radio had been made but they had given up half way through. Hense the crackling being louder than the voice. I walked up too it, intrigued.  
Bzzz, "...ews just birr in. Australia bzz ... Missing. I repeat Australia has disappeared. England and Germany have taken it as an... Bzz war against them, Blaming the American government for the attack..-"  
-BEEEEEEEP-  
" So sorry about that, there have been some technical difficulties, The government have denied any link between them and the disappearance of Australia and they warn England or Germany that if soldiers cross the boarder into America they will have instigated this and should be pre-"  
A manicured hand reached down turn off the radio, "that's enough of that don't you think?" said the psychiatrist.  
"But... war.. Since when was this a thing?" I stuttered.  
"It's just empty threats Frank. There's nothing to worry about. Why do you think I sent everyone outside? News like this could create untameable delusions and paranoia."  
"We have a right to know about this!"  
"I also have a duty to protect you from harm. What do you think is more important, for a place of healing?"  
"We're not as fragile as you think."  
"I don't care what you think, but if this behaviour keeps up you'll find yourself in a similar circumstance as our permanent guest." She smiled ridgedly. "Now let's see what else is on." She switched on the radio and flicked to a new station.  
Bzzz "Introducing new mood supplements', so you can always keep smiling." The radio announced cheerfully.  
"Hopefully I won't being seeing you soon Mr Lero."  
"That's Iero." I corrected her silently. God I need Gerard...


	19. Gerard ruturns, Eyes Vacant and Stained

I woke up in the middle of the night. My body drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. I must have had a nightmare. One that I could not remember.   
It was at that moment I realised there was a storm outside. The rain smashed against the windows as though they were tiny pellets of ice encasing water- the paintballs of the natural world. Not only this but the sky that was meant to be pitch black was backlit by lightening, the grey clouds were now lurid and ill looking.  
Thunder growled and murmured.  
In the corner of the room I saw red. "Hello Frank," he wheezed.  
I raised my head timidly, "Gerard, is that you?" I whispered fearfully.  
"Yes its me."  
Lightening flashed again and I finally saw Gerard's face. It was sickly and pale- the colour of off milk spilt on a marble work surface. His eyes were dulled and reaching from the corners the whites of his eyes began to go yellow as though watercolour had spilt.  
"You're ill, how are you ill?" I cried panicked.  
He smiled weakly, "What are you talking about, Frank?" He began to walk towards him, his feet unsteady as he stepped. Each lift of his foot seemed to be a struggle and yet Gerard tried so hard to remain as he always was. This only pained me more. I can help, I could be of help too!   
Suddenly he tripped, failing over as though a foot stuck out by bullies had caught him out, a way that would seem humorous to them but the few that understood what it was like... well it wasn't nice to say the least.  
I ran forward, catching him in my arms and lead him over to the bed. He collapsed onto the mattress but refused to lie down. I sat down next to him my mind a little hazy from the lack of sleep but I was determined to find out what was happening before morning came.  
"Gerard, what's happening? You disappear from me for a whole day and return like... like," I raised my arms and pointed vaguely in his direction, "...this"  
He sighed haughtily as though he was somehow being judged. He was on the defensive. Twisting a lock of red hair, he stared nonchalantly at it like he was making out the details in each strand. This was impossible for two reasons. One, it was dark and two, the hair was too close to his eyes to see anything but a red blur. I even found that when I hold a strand  of my own hair in front of my eyes, it was possible to see around it. "Look Frank," he began, "sometimes you need to learn when not to interfere, that your interfering is what may lead the situation to become worse."  
I scoffed angrily, "When has that ever been a strategy of yours, from the very beginning you've done nothing but interfere with my life. And you know what? It's the best thing you could have done."  
"You're in a mental institution because of me."  
"No. It's my own fault I'm in here." I smiled sadly. "I never asked you to leave, hell, I tried to make you stay!"  
"It's not entirely your fault, I feel as though somthing has been drawing us here... sometimes I feel I know this place... I feel sick every time we go past that metal door... And I... I don't know why... My head starts to grow light I try, I try to remember but my memories are blocked." Gerard breathed out shakily. "I couldn't tell you though, I willed myself not to say anything because despite all this, one thing goes round and round in my mind, protect Frank, protect him until he doesn't need you anymore."  
Lighting sparked- Gerard's eyelashes were damp.  
"What is going on, I mean seriously, I know, well I think you disappeared because of the tablets but what I can't understand is why you returned so frail."  
"I don't know. It's not supposed to be like this."  
"Do you know where you went? Do you remember anything?"  
"I wasn't completely gone, I think, I have vague memories of the dark but I saw colours too, a mixture of red and blue, they were calming and  then all of a sudden I could move and I went back here so I... So I could talk to you."  
"I'm glad you're back. Things have got weird. Like dingo ate my baby crazy." Gerard seemed slightly happy at the prospect that he could be helpful... I guess it drew away from the fact that the person who I thought could never be harmed was now on the receiving end of my medication.  
"I'm sure you're overreacting."  
"Look I know I'm prone to it, but I'm pretty sure Australia disappearing and the possibility of us going to war justifies that quote."  
"You're right there. Okay... I'm really not sure what to say. I don't know Frank, this isn't just something one person can deal with."  he runs his hand aggravatedly through his hair. "What is the government saying?"  
"They're denying it was them and both sides are threatening each other with war."  
"Why does every argument seem to lead to one country to pull their ace card of war out whenever they feel like they're losing?" He muttered bitterly.  
I began to fumble with my fingers, casting my eyes down. "I feel like my situation is so stupid. I complain about so many things that are so unimportant and yet I literally know nothing about the country I'm living in. I mean I know that helium is running out but I only know that because of Bob!"  
Gerard wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in close, "Yes it's true you don't pay attention to what's going on around you, and it's something that you're trying to fix. However that definitely doesn't mean that those small feelings are any less significant. It's like saying you can't feel happy unless everyone in the world is happy too- something I tell you now will always be impossible. Maybe if we can figure out what's going on here we can we take one step forward towards figuring out everything because one person can make a difference but it requires, at times, the help of many also." He kissed the top of my head lightly, his hot breath delicate as though I were a tower of cards ready to fall.  
"There's not alot we can do with that psychiatrist appearing at every critical moment," I said sleepily.  
"So we investigate slowly and take our time," he answered rhythmically.  
"I think the room-" I yawned "-next door is the key to this all."  
"Shhh.." He gently tilted me over so that my head was on the pillow. I looked at the clock, 03:54, it glared at me. "Shhh.. Just sleep for now Frank, we'll figure this out, we have to."


	20. Look Alive, otherwise who knows what'll happen

When morning came I noticed Gerard was no longer sitting next to me. A sudden sense of loneliness filled me and then fear. It overwhelmed me like a wave arching around my chest, swaying, pulling at my organs. I couldn't breathe.   
Then I looked over at the window.   
There was Gerard staring out but not really looking. He was daydreaming. Or at least that's what I assumed he was doing. The way Gerard could see inside my head was a one way process. I could never know what he was truly thinking. I could never truly know if he wanted to stay here. Because of this Gerard noticed I was awake, it took him a moment to snap out of it, but when he did he turned round and smiled warmly. His pale pink lips the colour of a blush in the cold, his small white teeth shining slightly in the white bask of the sun which made it's way through the window. His eyes alight and the weakness gone from his face.   
The small shadows under his eyes; an echo of yesterday that was now a part of him. "Good morning Frank," he said brightly.  
"Hi Gerard," I replied with a sense of stillness in my voice, an air of nervousness from yesterday and apprehension for the future. I wasn't quite sure if that could be read from a single greeting but if anyone could figure it out in one way or another... It'd be Gerard.  
He reached forward and brushed my matted hair from my eyes. I dipped my head down in embarrassment and it fell again. "It's a beautiful day today, It's sort of... I don't know but the sun is bright and yet dew hangs strongly against the leaves," Gerard smiled again.  
"I don't know, don't you find the sun rather harsh? I mean I can barely look out of the window from this angle."   
"Ah..." he raised his finger as a point of exclamation, "but you don't just look out the window to appreciate the sun. For instance at this moment the sun's rays have the affect of translucent flower petals against your face and it gradually moves and catches on the whites of your eyes and the raised edge of you lips. From this angle the sun is perfect today."  
"And I guess it would have the same effect on the plants as well."  
"Exactly, the dew catches the sun and they become like starlight in the day; something seemingly impossible and somehow it's before our very eyes. Think about the rarity in that."  
I was too short to see anything from that small gap, but the way he described things always caused me to crave what I couldn't reach, mentally and physically. Sometimes I considered just how much I was missing due to my limited capacity to take it all in. Being in place like this limited me further but even now he was able to see something so bright and beautiful. He made things simply wonderful.  
I thought about Australia. I drew in memories of conversations of disappearing fuel. I was scared about the prospect of a war I was too young to be part of and yet old enough to understand the danger.  
How did he have time to stare?  
"Fraannkk..." he drawled, "What did I tell you yesterday?" He leaned forward and looked up at me like Bambi, his large hazel eyes fully open.  
"I know, I know..." I sighed shaking my head, "But all those people Gerard, they've just vanished."  
"Well there's not a lot we can do about that here, and like I said, I have a feeling this place is part of it."  
"How do you investigate though?" I complained childishly.  
"We start with a clue. We ask staff members, someone we know we can trust. So not the psychiatrist, basically." I began to get the feeling that Gerard may be holding a personal grudge against her, but I didn't dare ask.  
There was a knock at the door. "Frank are you awake and decent?" It was Bob.  
We looked at each other and smiled, "Bob..." we said with simultaneous realisation.  
"Yes?" Bob said not quite understanding.  
"Bob, can I speak to you for a moment, privately," I added for good measure.  
"I don't have alot of time, but if you're quick I don't see why not." He opened the door and stepped inside, standing awkwardly in a corner that wad too small for him.  
"Bob, you've heard about Australia, haven't you?" I asked wearily.  
Bob looked down sadly, "Yes, unfortunately..."  
"Don't you think it's strange that this place is withholding information like that from us."  
"It's to stop you forming more delusions." He replied textbookly however the look on his face suggested he didn't agree with it.  
"And the psychiatrist, I haven't once heard her name being spoken, and she only seems to appear at critical times, why is this?"  
"She's probably just in her office," Bob answered again, however he walked over to the desk and began to write somthing down. "Listen Frank you really need to stop worrying, we're here to help you... Now hurry up and get breakfast." He finished writing and left.  
I looked down at the paper and in green pencil it said, 'meet me when we're outside, It's not sensible to talk about this so close to her office.'  
"Here we have our answer," stated Gerard simply.

When we stepped outside the first thing I noticed was the men in white masks and white suits. "This is weird. I don't like this."  
Then speakers began to crackle and the voice used for commercials began to talk, "Introducing the men in white," she spoke happily, "Here for your protection and care."  
"You're right, something seems off," Gerard whispered into my ear.  
As we walked passed them, I looked up in a panic, I felt strangely drawn to them the way a child is drawn to the robots in fairgrounds despite knowing they're going to jump at any moment. However they just stood there not even twitching as I went past.  
When we got to the dining hall there was a lot of hushed talking about the men in white and why they were here. In amongst it all Ray was trying to reassure everyone, "It's okay everyone, It's just a temporary measure due to the increased threat level in the area. Don't worry they're here to protect you."  
"More like trap us," someone said not quite managing to whisper. "They're trying to integrate them into our regular routine. They won't be leaving any time soon."   
We would soon find out she was right.


	21. You Can Run But You Can't Hide From This

I left the room with a steely determination, for once I felt like there was a purpose for me being here. I would figure this out. Gerard and I would find out what was happening and we would fix this. I know it was a lot to expect from myself but I knew that if I did nothing the feeling would start to naw at me from the inside... I considered the feeling would be guilt. Another part thought that the less I knew the better. If I didn't comprehend what was happening then I wouldn't feel compelled to do anything.   
I thought about everyone else here, who sat there listening to the distorted radio where nothing was ever on. I didn't want to be like that. I couldn't be like that again, trapped in my own bubble of self absorption. People are selfish. It was a basic fact, It's part of our DNA, self preservation is key. However what we seem to forget is that we need others, no matter how much we dislike company, everyone has something unique that they can add to help improve this world. We are also social creatures... The trouble is the people like that weren't the people in charge. No they were the truly selfish only concerned by what benefited them.  
It was this greed that had most likely led to the loss of our engergy source and why so many in places like this never leave. It was because of money.  
I looked back at the metal door wondering how this obscure person hidden behind there could be somehow linked to this whole thing, it was at this moment I spotted the same mousey haired man knock meakly on it and step in there. The door slammed shut and I rediverted my attention to the task ahead.  
I met Bob behind the back of the building where I had attempted to take a photo. He nervously fumbled at his pockets as though he was looking for something. He reached into a back pocket and pulled out a cigerette. Lighting it hurridley, he breathed in shakily and a sudden calmness overtook him.  
"I thought cigerettes were banned after the 2018 tax brought the prices up too high?" I said, watching this specticle with a confused stare. I haddn't seen one before, not in real life, only in photoshoots. And whilst I knew how damaging they were, it was kind of beautiful to see the grey smoke juxtaoppose the bright blue sky.  
"I don't smoke often," he answered dosily, "When I heard about the tax I mass-bort them a while back... Still I'm on my last few packets now. I need to quit really." He sighed sadly. "You wanted to ask me something?"  
"Right. Yes. I wanted to know about the psychiatrist, I want to know whats going on in the outside world. I can't be ignorant anymore."  
"This is a really dangerous time to start asking questions, Frank. Especially with all these dracs around."  
"I don't care. I need to know."  
"I'm afraid theres not much to say about the psychiatrist other than the fact that theres something not quite human about her, its as though her personality changes too quickly and yet she has the outward persona of a robot."  
"I get that vibe too, but thinking shes a robot is a bit extreme," I chuckled in denial.  
Bob raised an eyebrow, "I think with all these advancements lately, anything's possible."  
"What about whats happening out there?"  
"Austrailia is gone and we are on the brink of world war three and these dracs aren't just in the hospital... They're everywhere and people are almost all to easy to accept it. The government is taking us for fools and we're proving them right. Theres no one standing up to them. There's no resistance. Me, Ray, a few others and of course you have noticed that theres somthing wrong but there's not alot we can do." He breathed the smoke deeply in. "I not sure I should be telling you this really, I could loose my job... Or worse."  
"-But you're right to tell Frank," interupted Ray. "Everyone has the right to know what's been going on. It's just knowing who to trust."  
"Ray! Did you follow us?" Bob asked shocked.  
"I saw Frank walk off suspisiously after I let Mikey in to see Gerard."  
"How is he?"   
"He thinks Gerard's getting worse, and I think I agree with him. However more than once I've seen a bit of his personality creep back. Basically I don't know what to think anymore."  
Gerard, Gerard, Gerard! Gerard was missing. I couldn't belive I didn't notice this before. Could it possibly be that the person in the room next to me was the same person that had been with me since the age of thirteen?  
"I need to go." I stated hurridley.   
"Frank wait! Where are you going?" shouted Ray.  
"I need to find out the truth." I whispered.  
I rushed through the glass doors and across the common room, door the halls and flung the metal door open.  
There was the mousey haired man with a look of shock across his face and beside him was a pale man with long black hair that fell rattily from the roots. He looked ill and tired but those hazel eyes still alight with life made it obvious that this was Gerard.  
"...Gerard.." I croaked. "How can you- its not possible." I gasped.  
The mousey haired boy grabbed Gerard's hand and whispered in his ear, "Do you want me to make him leave?"  
Gerard shook his head, "No it's okay. I know him."  
"How?"  
"We're friends, I think. My minds a little hazy about the matter." Gerard looked warmly at him, "Mikey could you give us a few minutes and make sure no one comes in."  
"Sure Gerard, but you better tell me whats going on after." Mikey nodded one final time and stepped outside letting the door gently close behind him with a click.  
"I think that it's probably a good idea that I explain everything to you. But it's going to take a while."  
My mouth remained open like a goldfish but I managed a slight nod. Gerard took that as his cue to begin...


	22. I Hate the Ending Myself But It Started With An Alright Scene.

It was ten years ago. Up until that point Gerard was like any other introvert with an obsession with comic books, metal music... Oh and of course some David Bowie.  
One night Gerard slipped into a dream, his unconcious mind pulling at him as though claws were digging into his flesh his thoughts seemed to split away from his memories and this form he was watching from was flickering in and out of reality as though he was forced to stand and watch his body cling to the edge of a black hole. He didn't know what was happening. He assumed it was nothing important.  
Where his mind had taken was not somewhere he expected to go. Despite his surroundings seemingly being streached out and blurred, he found himself watching the sun set in a built up estate area with generic houses. Gerard tried to focus. What ever was happening it must have been important.  
There was a tree. The bark was old and had begun to peel away at the base. There were no leaves on the branches but there was an element of sad beauty about it despite the warm pink glow enveloping them.  
Beneath the tree was a boy. He was clearly a similar age to Gerard, wearing all black and his hair appeared to be cut by his own hand. The boy was crying but his head was raised high, watching the sky as though he was in a trance. That boy was me. I don't think I noticed Gerard that day but he said he said hello to me before being forced awake by his mother.  
He was late for school, he always seemed to sleep in. He didn't enjoy the forceful, angry energy that flooded the coridoors so early in the morning. He was in the youngest year at the time and he was either blanked by the older years or they gave him an irritated glare as if he had ruined their whole day. Obviously he kept his head down.  
Three years past. It was in early January and frost bit at his ears but he refused to wear a hat. Instead he would wear a long grey and black scaf that hung loosely from his neck, towards the end of that month he had managed to loose it. He missed it.  
That night his parents had got into thier worst fight yet. The door slammed shut and his dad left for good. Gerard sometimes struggled to remember what he looked like, the only pernament memory being a vist to the cinema to watch the new star wars movie. Guilt flooded his mind the more and more he forgot but as he grew older that guilt turned into anger.  
On that listless morning after Gerard, his mother and of course his younger brother Mikey went through the motions but none of them said a word about the empty chair at the table.  
Gerard began to slip out of reality more and more and start to talk about a place he'd never been to, the sun and the boy he would watch and talk at. His mother grew more and more worried and the next day Gerard went to see a psychiatrist.  
Every week he sat in that blue plastic chair, his short legs swinging as his toes brushed against the floor with music playing so loudly the people sat next to him gave him a disapproving stare and shuffled two seats across. He would go into that isolated room and sat in silence whilst a psychiatrist wrote things down on his clip board.  
One day Gerard told the man about his dreams and never once did he trust an adult again. He was perscribed drugs for an illness that, in his mind, didn't exist. He would take two a day. One in the morning and one before bed. Now when he fell asleep he remembered nothing from his dreams but he began to draw places and people he'd never seen. He started to understand, slightly, what was happening, that perhaps a part of him was no longer with him as he slept.  
He stopped taking his medicaition and he began to dream and once again. He found the boy, who had now slightly matured. He spoke at him, simply speaking, "It's nice here isn't it." Now this is the part where two memories begin to merge because this was the first moment I ever saw Gerard. He was hidden by the shadows of the buildings but those entrancing hazel eyes didn't make it difficult to link them to the same person.  
For me, I didn't see Gerard for another two weeks but he had told me that he had seen me several times before proper introduction. Within this time Gerard had come to the conclusion that we had been drawn together for a reason and that two lonely people deserved a friend. He also realised that no one else seemed to notice he was there. He could manipulate nothing... except when he first held my hand.  
Coincidently, it was around this time Gerard had gone through the process of being classed as insane by society but mainly by the psychiatrist that runs this institution. He had been locked away in this place forced to take the medicaition he once rejected. He became mute, still and slowly he forgot about those rose pink skies.  
A part of Gerard had been forcefully removed from him, some might say it was his soul. And this soul latched tightly to the only thing it felt he had a connection with... I suppose that was me.   
The soul began to manifest Growing stronger and stronger each day until it could finally show itself to me. It called itself Gerard because that's who it was and he wore a Pink Floyd tshirt because this soul needed me to remain there. He wasn't concious to this fact, all he knew was that he had to befriend Frank Iero and guide him like some kind of guardian angel.  
He blushed a little at this statement, tucking strands of his dark hair behind his ear and remained staring at the floor.  
So this alternate version of Gerard was living his life with Frank oblivious to the fact that his body was basically dying, slowly and painfully, still slightly aware of what was going on in this other place. He longed to escape.  
He never expected that I would stroll through those doors on that fateful day with the persona that had long forgotten where it came from. But being in such close proximity to each other would eventually draw his soul back. At first they began to remember together two seperate lives each sharing the others memories but it when I first took those pills that everything started to become clear. This Gerard sitting in front me had figured things out long before the soul.  
They seemed reluctant to give up on me as if thier task was not yet complete. "But what you have to rember Frank," he said "was that niether of us could control what was happening. Two seperate memories were splicing together in my head and when he finally saw Mikey again... The emotional shock meant that somehow I was no longer a seperate entity to the Gerard you know... I am just me."  
"So just like that, the other Gerard's gone," I ask disgruntled.  
"Not exactly... I am him and he was me. Well part of me," he mumbled.  
"Would I be able to see him again?"  
"I don't know Frank, theres no way to know. It just happens." His hands ran worriedly through his hair. "I know I'm not exactly the same as Gerard you know, but I remember everything and... I... I have those qualities that he did just with some issues, I suppose." He raised his head and looked pleafully at me. "It's a lot to take in."  
"I know that. You don't need to tell me that. I can't imagine what you must have gone through all alone..." I smiled kindly at him. "but now thats no longer the case. I can see from your eyes that you are just as kind and smart and that you are just Gerard as was he."  
"The thing is. I need your help. Something very wrong and very bad is happening and we need to get out of here as soon as possible."   
"I'm very happy to help you escape from this place... But what about Mikey?"  
"Mikey never wanted me here. And he's not an idiot, he knows that something bad is happening here- happening everywhere."  
The door burst open, "Gerard, I'm sorry! I tried to stop her!" Mikey shouted as the door closed closed. "No let go of me!" he cried.  
My eyes landed on the psychiatrist, her mouth curled into vicious smile, "Now what do we have here."  
I gulped.


	23. You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us in this metaphor of a Prison

As soon as she entered the room I saw that down trodden expression plaster over his face- even that mystical spark of hope began to ebb and fade to nothing. I too was terrified but I had not yet faced her full wrath and for that reason I looked at her with defiance.  
"Where are you taking Mikey?" I demanded.  
"Visiting hours are over and in fact, I think they will be cancelled for good." That stupid, victorious grin remained but even underneath this I could tell she was angry. Angry at the fact that I had finally spoken to Gerard. Angry that I finally understood what was happening. Angry because we didn't just sit back and accept things as they are. We were questioning this reality, considering this situaition carefully and deciding that this was the future we didn't want. But she still had power over us physically. There was no way we could simply walk out of this place and leave everything behind. And even if we could, there were things that kept us emotionaly stuck here. People such as Bob and Ray- would she realise I had spoken with them? And what about Mikey? What kind of control did she have on the outside world?  
So whilst she was angry, it was still possible for her to smile because in one way or another she had already won.  
"Since you're both readily aquainted, I think it's best that you stay here."  
Gerard's eyes widened, fear convolsing through him, "You can-... t d..do this." He stuttered but his body betrayed him and he skuffeled back on his hands.  
Her eyes narrowed and she hovered over in an attempt to intimidate him. It worked. "When have you ever been brave enough to stop anything that happens. Just because you have a friend doesn't make you any more of what you were. You're not some hero... You're just a boy," she mocked and then with a flourish, she left.  
The door closed again but no light returned to the room. We were in pitch black darkness that seemed to swallow all your senses and yet fear of unknown threats tangled into your thoughts.  
"I don't like the dark, she knows I don't like the dark. That's why she did it. This is why we couldn't meet. I'm so sorry Fran-" I placed my finger to his lips silencing him.  
"It's just the dark. Nothing about this room has changed and this is not your fault. I walked in here- if anything I should be apologising."  
Gerard breathed out softly, and I felt soft air whoosh past my finger. I giggled quietly.  
"What's so amusing?" he questioned, not quite understanding why this was such an astounding specticle.  
"It's just I never quite believed it... You're real Gerard. A proper human being with thoughts and feelings... And people can see you. After all these years of hoping. I see today as a victory for us." I stared at him wide eyed and a little bit in love. Of course he couldn't see this and I could only just start to make out the round curve of his face.  
"I'm glad I finally get to meet you properly too, just fragments of memories is enough to care for someone but it doesn't go for much in terms of knowing about them." I studied his voice carefully- it was just an octave higher and I took that for happiness.  
"Can I sit down?"  
"What?"  
"It's just my legs. They're starting to hurt."  
I heard some paniked shuffling, "-yes, it's fine... er let me just... Yes go ahead."  
I stepped foward cautiously reaching out for the mattress. My hands grabbed hold of somthing soft and fluffy, I took it for the bed and sat down, the springs creaking achily as I did so.  
"I-" we spoke in unison but stopped talking again.  
"You go first," invited Gerard.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes, go ahead."  
"I was wondering, well, do you think we'll get out of here, I mean the door is metal and we're locked in. Do we even get food?"  
"I was about to ask the same thing," he giggled awkardly. "Food on the otherhand, yes, well we have to get food, but she's angry so we might not get any tonight... I think... Maybe."  
"Ah... That makes sense." I lean't foward and rested my chin on my hand. "This place is breaking so many ethical guidelines."  
"But isn't that all they are in the end... Guidelines. It's not as if they're rules set in stone."  
I looked at him with a sideways glance, "That was so similar to what you'd used to say to me back home."  
"Did I really say stuff like that?" I couldn't see him but I knew that he was blushing.  
"Yeah all the time. You'd come up with all these awsome quotes and I'd be too dumstruck to retort. But I loved hearing them, they made me question what I was doing, you know? You've helped me so much Gerard and you barely even remember it," I wained sympathetically.  
"I remember enough to know that you also helped me. I've been trapped in here for nearly half my life just because I don't fit into societies view of a good citizen."  
"Ha! Their version of the perfect citizen is a walking Zombie with a smiley face drawn on in marker pen. That's the reason behind all these new health suppliments, they're making us so stupid that we won't even notice when the world is about to end," I answered scornfully.  
"I think I know less than you about whats going on. I get snippets from Ray and Mikey about outside but it's hard to image when this room has been your life for nearly a decade."  
I reached my hand out blindly but thankfully found his clutching at the corner of the bed. My fingers were cold and I felt him shiver as I placed my hand on his. He turned it so our palms touch and then our fingers interlocked. Each sensaition felt completely new to me, it was though tiny static shocks were running up my arm. But at the same time just holding his hand was the most comforting thing in the world.  
"You've been looking out for me for so long, it's time I do the same," I spoke with determinaition in the hope that I wouldn't loose Gerard after only just finding him.  
"We will find a way out, won't we Frank?"  
"I'm sure Bob and Ray care enough not to just let things stand as they are."  
I felt two arms wrap around me tightly, "Thank you for always believing in me," he whispered almost silently into my ear.  
I didn't reply, but I reached up and held my hand over his.


	24. I See You Lying Next To Me

Gerard eventually fell asleep. His slim body curled up tightly at the foot of the bed. I could just make out the deep shadow of black hair sprayed against the pillow case. His soft snores as gentle as breathing. I couldn't tell the time, there was no way of knowing, but exhaustion overcame him quickly whilst I sat awake in deep thought, the struggle of not knowing the time played havoc with my sleeping pattern. Part of me thought that I should fall asleep with him. I tried. I really did, however tonight I would just remain awake.  
It was a rare occaision for me- it wasn't like I had insomnia but there where times where I would end up staying awake the whole night, usually due to the book in my hand. There was a time where I got through the entire set of the lord of the rings and the hobbit over the course of two days and the entire night. I was so desperate to get through them, to discover how they ended, intreaged by this slightly older writing style and the texture of the pages that brushed against my finger tips.  
I guess that maybe Gerard was a little like that to me, never have I heard of something so unique and improbable unless it was a story. But here he was, asleep, very ordinary and yet at the same time he was the most wonderful and unique figure who was still, in a lot of ways, a complete mystery. I feel as if I've known Gerard for most of my life, but for him, perhaps, I was still a stranger and that in my heart I knew that we could never go back to the kind of relationship we had before... Then again maybe now was the time for change. I could no longer be ignorant and selfish to the point where I ignored what was going on around me. I may not like a lot of people I meet but that gives me no right to dismiss them and not care. If what people were saying was true, we were all going to be part of a fight and therefore there are going to be people who will die.  
We needed to get out of here. It was as simple as that. If we could leave this place we could gain a better understanding of what was happening and figure a out a way to fight this. But we couldn't get out. We were trapped. And I am scared, practically alone and still technically a teenager.  
So firstly I needed to figure out this relationship with Gerard because I feel as though friend isn't a term to describe him and yet there wasn't really a word to define us.   
I looked over towards him again, my fingers instinctively reaching out to touch the wisps of hair, each strand was soft, but a light layer of oil clung to them suggesting to me that he hadn't washed his hair for a while- not that it mattered. Being locked in a room for most of your life tends to sort out your priorities and quite frankly you can apply all kinds of cosmetics to help define your style but it doesn't change who you are, deep down because I am me in the same way Gerard was Gerard... Sort of.  
I became restless the more the minutes passed and the more restless I became the more I wondered how bad it would have been for Gerard being trapped in here all alone, no wonder all the walls were covered in sketches... He must have been so board and scared, it must have been hard to figure out the difference between his imaginaition and reality when there was no one there to reassure him except the occaisional visit from his brother.  
The wind outside thrashed against the wall whistling and howling like a tempromental were wolf. Amongst this was the shrill chirp of bird song that could only be known to those of us who lay awake to the early hours of the morning when at that moment the sky becomes a royal blue on the horison but the warm yellow rays have a few hours before they need to appear.  
I shuffled impaitently against the sliding sheet, lifting myself up to pull them back and try to reposition them against the wall to create a makeshift pillow. I heard Gerard murrmur incoherantly into the sheets drawing himself tighter into a ball before sighing and streaching out as if he had given up on sleep.  
"Mornin'," he muttered then added, "Or it might not be morning... but there's no way to know so we'll just have to rely on sleeping patterns for now," he smiled sheepishly.  
"Sorry I woke you, I think theres still a few hours to morning."  
"It doesn't matter Frank, I'm awake and your awake so I'll say its just early... except," his fingers delicatley reached out to touch under my eye and pressed at it with the pad of his finger as though they were swollen, "you haven't slept at all, have you?"  
"I had alot on my mind, and I didn't know the time... it confuses me," I answered a little embarased by this.  
"Oh, yes, I think I remember something about this. It's nothing to be embarased about, people have small problems like this all the time. When I first came here I didn't sleep for two days because the room was either too dark or too bright, hence all the drawings."  
"Their good drawings, I don't think I could be brave enough to draw anything directly on there."  
"It took a lot of practice, but I feel like I'm eventually at the point where I'm happy with my art," he answered truthfully. Something very rare with amateur artists, most came across as modest and self depricating as if they felt ashamed that they had a talent. I think I can understand why they would do this because I would often grow jealous of people's talents despite my best efforts and this becomes difficult to hide. However, in spite of this, I found what Gerard said quite refreshing.  
I nodded at him enthusiastically, then reminding myself that we couldn't see each other so I hummed happily instead.  
Gerard giggled at this unusual reply and I blushed slightly.  
"I'm glad," Gerard said warmly.  
"About what?"  
"That you like my art, firstly, but also because that even though we're stuck here, this is the first time I've had someone I liked with me."  
The term liked, made me happy but at the same time it was fustrating because there were so many definitions for this word I could never figure out what one he meant. And with myself still unsure about my feelings I could only reply with, "I like you too Gerard."


	25. I'd Rather Be In Hell Than In Purgetory

I slammed my fist hard against the wall. I am tired, I'm angry and I am confused. The time still unknown to me and the lack of food was clearly evident from my groaning stomach. All of this combined to create a feeling of frustration so much so that when I screwed my eyes up tightly tears pricked and I would have to lay my head against the cool surface of the concrete to regain composure.

I could feel the shift of the mattress as Gerard crept closer but did nothing to try and stop me. He suggested calmly that I should try to sleep but did nothing in the way of trying to force me. I was grateful for that. I was grateful for him.

It was quickly becoming apparent to me that these feelings I was pushing down, these emotions that I couldn't share were now resurfacing. I couldn't control what I was thinking. Lack of sleep seems to enhance what I feel greatly. I thought Gerard would never be real and I continued to hope but I knew... Well, I thought I knew.. Oh god!

I started crying again, loudly- I was wailing hopelessly like a lost child. My shoulders hunched, I pulled my knees to my face trying to muffle what I could. Something like this couldn't be shared with Gerard. I couldn't... I couldn't...

"Frank... What's wrong?" he asked softly.

I opened my mouth to speak but it felt as though cloth had been shoved down my throat, drying it out, I felt like being sick.

"Frank you're scaring me... Maybe it's lack of sleep.. Frank, you need to calm down."

"I.. I.." I gulped. My palms began to sweat, and a squeezed my hands into fists to try and calm myself but the darkness enveloped me and despite the size, I felt enclosed and trapped- perhaps it was because Gerard was hovering over me. "I need.. I need Gerard," I sobbed.

"I'm right here," he replied softly placing his hand on my back and rubbing soothing circles. "I know that's not what you meant, you want someone to calm you down, someone you feel has more intelligence and understanding of the world. I know I'm not him. Not completely. But let me help. Tell me whats wrong," It was kind but a demand nonetheless. Gerard was trying hard to be the person I remember but the slight tremor in his hand and the nervousness in his voice led me to the conclusion that this could never be...

And yet everything he said and did had this overwhelming effect on me like whilst there was changes and we were going to have to grow together, this was Gerard. "I used to have a crush on you," I whispered.

"I know."

"How?"

"It wasn't hard to miss the signs but something like that would have been impossible in our previous situaition."

"Oh.." I replied blankly. I had been rejected. Perhaps it was for the best, it could never work and now was not the time to think about such things. I felt a little calmer and yet...

"And Frank, it's still obvious," he continued coily. "But this time its different. We're both here. Now. Real."

"Oh,"

"Frank. Oh Frank I have these memories of us and I look back so fondly but I have trouble comprehending them. Because these feelings were detached from me for such a long time.. I have trouble processing what we have now. But having you here in this room I'm beginning to see now that, Frank, I like you a lot and I know that our relationship goes beyond just friendship."

He was leaning closer, I could feel his breath fanning against my face whilst I stopped breathing altogether. Tear stains clug to my cheeks and I was a tired wreak and yet somehow he was leaning in closer to me.. eyelashes tickling my skin... he leaned in further and placed a butterfly kiss to the corner of my mouth. His lips were dry and I sat there stunned.

I never imagined this could happen, maybe I fantasized, but never for one moment. Gerard retracted and I breathed out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he mumbled, suddenly growing embarrassed.

"No, it's fine, I'm glad you did it... I er.. It was nice but this is new and it's a huge step man, I just want to make sure you truly feel this way. Please tell me it's not just sympathy."

"It's not sympathy Frank.'

I turned to face him, despite not being able to see him, I swear I caught the gleam of his eyes, that soft mossy green.

My hand reached up to touch his face, blindly reaching out, I caught his jaw. His skin was smooth but I could feel rough skin towards his hairline. My imagination finally becoming complete. I pulled his face towards mine and kissed him.

I think Gerard was more startled than I was, especially since it was the first time I ever kissed someone. He didn't pulled away though, instead, he pressed his mouth firmly against mine and it felt strange how quickly ghost kisses became proper ones.

I wasn't really sure what to do after this point, of course, I had read about this kind of thing in books but actually, physically moving to the next step became an impossible thing. Gerard didn't move away, instead we just sat there, are lips together with little movement... That was until his tongue reached out and slowly prised my lip apart. Suddenly the kiss was becoming open-mouthed and wet. The movements weren't in synch. I don't think anything about our kiss was remotely perfect but that feeling people talk about. That electrical spark. It was there and finally, I felt as though there was a light.

"Er erch um," there was a cough.

Gerard and I broke apart and looked towards the door. Bob, Ray and Mikey stood there awkwardly, surrounded by light.

"Right, okay," Mikey began. I was not expecting that. "I, er Gerard..."

"Listen. Frank. Gerard. We're getting out of here," said Bob. "Collect what you need and then we're leaving."

"And please. No more kissing." Ray added.


	26. Let This World Explode, not if Frank had anything to say about it

The first thing I did was leapt up and hugged Gerard tightly- which was a little counterproductive I suppose. But hey I was happy. He giggled slightly but I could see he was slightly tense, his hands drawn into fists. I considered it to be because he'd never really left this room. It must be almost like breaking his programming to even step outside this door.  
"You probably want to grab some clothes and change," Ray stated. "But we need to be quick. Bob's disabled the security, for now, but it's a matter of minutes before it comes back on." He looked at Gerard. "You too, hurry up."

We nodded in unison and I sprinted out the door and tumbled into my old room which was lucky still unlocked. I stripped and a wave of cool air hit my skin and my body looked as though it had been pricked by needles. I dropped down and reached under my bed and groped in the dark for the suitcase I thought I wouldn't be needing again.   
Running my fingers across the smooth folds of fabric, catching sight of the bright printing even in the dark, I spotted it. A Pink Floyd t-shirt, similar to the one Gerard had worn all those years ago. One that I had searched for in the very depths of the internet. I had worn it a lot, so much so the bright pink ink had now cracked and faded like a dried out petal. I smirked and pulled it over my head, this welcomed feeling like a hug from an old friend.

I then swooped my arm across the desk and let the pencils drop into the bag. I zipped it and strolled from the door. Just before I closed it my eyes glanced at the camera and I snatched it from the desk and hung it around my neck. I was met by a tentative Gerard and Co. They looked at me with relief and I smiled widely at them.  
"I can get us quietly to the front door but I'm afraid the last one we're going to smash the glass," Bob stated apologetically.  
"What about those bloody guards littered about the place?" Mikey asked bitterly, rubbing at his arm.  
"Yeah it's a bit strange they're not around," Gerard concerned.  
"Yes... It is strange. I'm beginning to get a bad feeling about this. Maybe we've already been discovered." Ray replied vaguely.  
"All the more reason to get going," I said hastily.

We briskly hurried through the eerie corridors, deep set shadows clinging to the walls but eagerly awaiting to peel away. The more we walk the more frightened I became, my hand reached out for Gerard's and instinctively he found mine. Yet the icyness of the night stroked across bare skin.   
"This bad feeling... It's getting worse," I said in a hushed tone.

"Just keep calm Frank, we're getting you out of here," Bob replied with a determined air. "Just keep quite..."

As we reached the first door, Ray swiped the card across the sensor it beeped loudly and I jumped in surprise. Every noise and sensation heightened at night, the years of evolution telling you that it's bad to be up night but the contradictory messages of modern times- street lights, the never-ending parties... TV. But is it really wise to ignore something that sits at the core of your DNA, constantly reminding you of the dangers in the dark.

Our footsteps were like the jumbled slam on an untuned piano we clattered loudly but none of spoke, not now. Not when we were so close. Ray swiped the card against the sensor. The light was red. The door behind us was locked shut. We'd been herded into a small space. There was no escape.

There was a clicking sound and then the grating noise of feedback from the speaker. "Gerard, you're not getting out of here. And Frank... You should know better." It was her.  
"Let us out we just want to leave!" Gerard shouted hoarsely.  
"Bob, Mikey and Ray are free to leave anytime- after all, they're not a patient. However you and Frank are." I could feel her smirking.

"Whatever this is, this isn't a place for people to get better!" Mikey cried, "And I wished I realised it sooner. My brother should have never been put in here and I'm not leaving without him!"  
"Me too," Said Ray.  
"And me," finished Bob.  
"Well you're not simply walking out of here..." she chuckled smugly.

The white masked men began to filter in, they were tall and muscular but everything about them reminded me of the giant white lab rats. First thing first, I didn't like rats and secondly, I definitely didn't like the look of them.  
Gerard nudged my shoulder and hissed, "look at their hands," he hissed. I looked down, in their hands, they were holding guns. They were holding fucking guns!  
"... by any means possible," she added.  
"You can't kill us!" There's laws and rules, "this place has gone insane!" Ray cried.  
"Oh dear Ray, haven't you noticed what's been happening on the outside. Democracy is over. There's been a vote to be a dictatorship... People can't think for themselves! And now the beta testing is over its time to expand my new project. A project you are no longer needed for." I could feel her smile. "Dracs, just kill them all- they're a liability."

The men in white starter filter towards us, guns pointed, we were becoming increasingly surrounded, I started to become dizzy, I didn't know what to do, just a few short months ago I never would have considered this a possibility.. I didn't.. I don't know what to do...  
"I've had enough of this shot!" Bob bellowed. "You can take your crappy ward. Places like this are meant to help people!"  
Bob suddenly thundered into the group of masked men toppling them back, "Frank, everyone! Run now!"

Almost instinctively Gerard lifted up a chair and charged at the glass door. It shattered the glass fragments reflecting the mellow moonlight like stardust. "Get moving," Gerard instructed hastily.  
We ran out of the hospital, the jagged glass catching on my clothes but we did it. We made it outside!

We began to laugh happily but it was cut short when Mikey cried, "Where's Bob?"  
Metal shutters slowly closed over the door, only a glimpse of his hand could be seen as the swarm surrounded him. His call for help destroyed by the metal door.  
"No! Bob!" I screamed. "We need to get him out!"   
"We can't," Gerard replied solemnly if we do that we'll be killed. "We need to get as far away from here as possible."  
"This isn't over... In fact, it's only just beginning." Mikey stated looking up at the sign above the door.  
'BETTER LIVING MENTAL ASYLUM. HERE TO HELP YOU KEEP SMILING'  
"If I'm right, better living won't just be a company in a few months time."


	27. Epilogue

' _better living here with the news_ ,' said an artificial voice. 'I _t's a lovely sunny day here in California. The sun is shining for the 45th day in a row and the last reported crime was over a month ago,_ however _the terrorists, Party Poison, Fun Ghoul, Jet Star and Kobra Kid_ are still miss--" Gerard pressed the button sharply, changing the station before smiling shyly and tucking a strand of bright red hair behind his ear.  
"We don't need to listen to that, Dr. D is on now."  
I nodded.

' **Bzz..- 'Look alive, Sunshine**  
 **109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit**  
 **You're here with me:** Dr. **Death-Defy**  
 **I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter**  
 **Pumpin' out the** slaughtermatic **sounds to keep you alive -** bzzz **-**  
 **A system failure for the masses,** antimatter **for the master plan**  
 **Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny**

 **This one's for all of you** rock'n'rollers  
 **All you crash queens and motor babies**

 **Listen up!** '


End file.
